Chapter 893 You Killed My Sister
The younger guy was the one who lunged at him. Jeffery got caught off guard and didn't see the attack coming.
The punch landed square on his back, and with a muffled groan of pain, Lyra's mind went blank.
She rushed to support Jeffery, flustered. "Mr. Gray, are you okay? Why'd you take the hit for me?"
Jeffery straightened up, still managing to explain, "I wasn't taking it for you. He was aiming for me."
He glanced at his own back, his eyes darkening. The blow hurt, something an ordinary person couldn't handle, but he was different. As a former RavenWing test subject, he was used to this kind of treatment.
But that didn't mean Jeffery wouldn't get angry.
Jeffery slowly turned his gaze to the man who had hit him, his dark look making the man shiver.
But only for a moment.
"It's all your fault, you quack! My sister was only nineteen when she died. If it weren't for you, she'd still be alive! You and this heartless hospital should all die!"
Lyra stepped forward, indignant. "How can you be so sure it's our hospital's fault? We're here to save lives, not harm them."
The man was furious, his eyes almost popping out of his head. At that moment, his mother, wiping her tears, spoke up, "If not you, then who? My daughter had liver problems, and you said she needed a transplant. The surgery was scheduled for two weeks later, but her condition worsened, so it was moved up."
Jeffery frowned, listening to the mother explain the situation word by word.
To outsiders, it looked like he was feeling guilty.
Lyra looked at him worriedly, firmly believing that Jeffery wouldn't do something like that. There had to be some misunderstanding.
"We borrowed money from all our relatives to gather the surgery fee. My daughter went into the operating room that day."
Lyra couldn't help but interject, genuinely puzzled. "Isn't it good that she went into the operating room? If her condition worsened and the transplant wasn't done in time, she would have died anyway."
The mother, eyes red with anger, shouted, "At least she could have lived a bit longer! Instead, she came out fine but had a high fever that night! A simple fever took her life!"
The mother beat her chest, almost collapsing in grief.
The two men supported the fragile woman. Lyra watched the scene, her throat feeling choked, her voice strained.
"Didn't the hospital take any measures?"
The mention of this made the mother even angrier. She stood up, pointing at Jeffery. "You! Why weren't you there that day? They said only you could do the surgery, but you weren't there. If you had been, my daughter wouldn't have died. It's all your fault!"
Jeffery's frown eased a bit.
No wonder he didn't remember these people well. He now recalled that the surgery was supposed to be done two weeks ago.
After the surgery, Jeffery had to leave for something urgent. Before leaving, he asked a trusted doctor to keep an eye on the patient and call him if anything happened.
But he never received a call.
"I did have an urgent matter that day and wasn't at the hospital, but I left instructions with a doctor. He didn't call me to notify me of any issues."
The mother was stunned, thinking Jeffery was shirking responsibility. "Even now, you're trying to avoid responsibility. Don't you care about my daughter's life? She was a living person!"
Seeing the two men getting restless again, Lyra was ready to pull Jeffery away.
Better to be a bit embarrassed than to get hurt.
The blow Jeffery took earlier had scared her just by watching. She couldn't imagine how bad his back must look now, but there was no time to sit down and check.
Without a word, Lyra grabbed Jeffery's hand. His large, warm palm enveloped hers, but she didn't notice. "Mr. Gray, let's go. The police will handle this."
She didn't care, but Jeffery couldn't ignore it.
The warmth and smallness of her hand struck him. If he tightened his grip just a bit, her whole hand would be completely covered.
Jeffery's heart inexplicably warmed, and he let go of her. "No need."
Lyra was about to speak when the police arrived. Seeing the officers surrounding the area, she sighed in relief and noticed Jeffery's phone peeking out of his pocket.
It looked like it had been hastily shoved in.
So, he had already called for help without anyone noticing.
No wonder Jeffery was so calm. The quick arrival of the police made sense.
Soon, the police restrained the three family members, causing trouble. Jeffery and Lyra, as involved parties, had to give statements.
But Jeffery needed to treat his injury first.
Jeffery wanted to handle it himself, but no matter how capable he was, he couldn't see the back of his head. After a while, he still hadn't applied the medicine.
Just as he was getting frustrated, there was a knock on the door.
Jeffery's sharp gaze shot to the door, guessing a name. "Lyra?"
Outside, Lyra's clear voice responded, "It's me, Mr. Gray. I thought you might have trouble doing it yourself. If you don't mind, I can help you with the medicine."
Lyra's palms were sweaty as she stood hesitantly at the door, extremely nervous. She didn't know where she found the courage to say those words; it was a spur-of-the-moment decision.
There was a long silence inside.
Her face flushed slightly with embarrassment and shame. "Just think of me as—"
Before she could finish, Jeffery's soft voice came through, concise and clear. "Come in."
Lyra pressed down her wildly beating heart and carefully pushed the door open.
Jeffery was sitting on the bed in the break room, his white coat casually thrown aside. His shirt was half off, revealing part of his collarbone and his Adam's apple moving up and down.
Lyra didn't dare look too much, quickly lowering her head. Her hands were even sweatier, afraid the bottle would slip when she picked up the medicine.
But soon, her attention shifted.
Jeffery's back had a bruise larger than a palm, forming a shocking sight.
Lyra lightly touched it with her fingertips, not daring to press too hard, her voice low. "Does it hurt?"
Before answering, Jeffery saw her expression, her brows furrowed as if she were the one injured.
He paused slightly, suddenly wanting to tell the truth. "It hurts, but I can bear it."
Jeffery wasn't made of steel; he felt pain and sorrow, too, but he was used to it.
Those who knew his past would understand what he meant, but Lyra didn't. She simply thought it was from the man's blow. Her hands trembled as she applied the medicine, both angry and sad.
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