Chapter 123 Bobby Passed Away
Just as Patricia was cornered with no apparent escape option, the silent Martin stepped forward. His imposing figure stood between them, his eyes slightly narrowed, exuding an oppressive aura.
"Madam Thomas, I think she has made herself quite clear. I respect you as an elder, and I ask you to also act with such dignity and not to trouble her." Martin spoke in a tone of finality.
Madam Thomas growled unwillingly, "But my grandson is the one laying in the OR right now."
Martin's thin lips pursed slightly, contemplating his words before speaking he said.
"Your grandson ended up in his current state because of your decisions, isn't that so? You shouldn’t project the blame onto Patricia now."
Madam Thomas's face showed her discomfort at his assessment, unable to accept it she asked, "Are you declaring yourself against me to stand by her side?"
Without a word, Martin placed his hand supportively on Patricia's shoulder, and with a resolute gaze, he met Madam Thomas's stare.
Though he didn't answer, the answer was implicitly clear. Madam Thomas clenched her teeth bitterly, her eyes warningly fixed on Martin's gaze, steadily filling with frost.
"Have you made up your mind to be my enemy?" Madam Thomas asked.
The eyes of both powerful individuals were locked in a silent but explosive clash, an unseen battle of wills forming a dense undercurrent of uncertainty.
Madam Thomas’s eyes were ice-cold and dreadful. “Are you determined to oppose me?”
---
Martin slowly curled his lips into a smile, unfazed by the chaos, the devil within escaping to the surface, he said.
"You're the one who chose to be my enemy. When you insisted on seeking out Debbie initially, I had warned you to bear the consequences. It was your disregard for advice that led to today's predicament. Instead of wasting time here, you should go and see your grandson for one last time."
Having said that, he grasped Patricia's hand firmly and turned to enter the ICU ward taking her with him.
Madam Thomas watched their retreating figures with venomous eyes, her fists clenched so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Greta and Spencer had been crying inconsolably.
Spencer, having accepted reality, slowly rose from the ground. Greta, supported Madam Thomas, sobbed heartbrokenly,
"Grandmother, let’s go to the operating room. Maybe it’s not as bad as we think!" Greta said.
Her words only stoked the flames of Madam Thomas's fury. She slapped Greta hard across the face.
"Bobby's predicament is all because of you. If his life is at risk, you are to leave the Thomas family immediately. I never want to see you again!"
After speaking, she shook off Greta's helping hand, gripping her cane, hunched over, and painstakingly made her way to the operating room.
Greta, clutching her stinging cheek, didn't dare to even breathe too loudly. Fearing that Madam Thomas might collapse, Spencer quickly followed to support her.
The three of them staggered to the operating room, only to find Debbie anxiously peering down the corridor. Seeing them return, she couldn't wait to ask, "What about Patricia? Didn't you find her?"
Thinking back on Patricia's words and the potential loss of her grandson, Madam Thomas's fury ignited, her eyes burning red.
She slapped Debbie twice, leaving her dazed and lost. "Madam Thomas..."
Madam Thomas, shrouded by malevolent energy, hissed, "If anything happens to my grandson, I will make you pay with your life."
Her glare was venomous and filled with murderous intent. Debbie felt a cold chill down her spine.
"Madam Thomas, what's happened to you?" Debbie asked, trembling.
"Do not pretend you don't know what you've done," spat Madam Thomas.
"If my grandson has become a victim in your grasp for power, I will end you. I mean what I say." Madam Thomas threatened Debbie.
Debbie realized what was happening, her body shaking uncontrollably, her eyes wide with fear and horror.
"You’ve got it all wrong, I was trying to..."
But Madam Thomas would not hear it. "Get back in there and save him! If Bobby does not make it out alive, then don't you bother coming out either."
Under Madam Thomas's menacing gaze, Debbie felt a frigid fear and hurriedly entered the operating room.
Greta stood silently outside the operating room, eyes closed, hands together in prayer. Madam Thomas, leaning on her cane, stubbornly waited by the door. Spencer quietly wept.
Time ticked by, and as darkness fell outside, the operating room remained silent. Unable to stand it any longer, the aged Madam Thomas sat on a bench outside the room.
Inside the operating room, Bobby lay still on the operating table, his body growing colder by the second, his complexion worryingly pale. Debbie paced back and forth fearfully.
A nurse eyed Bobby's lifeless body. "Professor Brown, the patient has no vital signs all resuscitation efforts have failed. We should inform his family to prepare for his funeral. We can't just leave him here."
Debbie glared at her. "Of course I know that! But didn't you see the look on Madam Thomas's face? Telling her now that her grandson is dead will unleash her wrath."
Not only that, but Debbie's hard-won reputation would crumble. She wouldn't stand for it.
The nurse pursed her lips in disdain, thinking that if Debbie knew it would come to this, she wouldn't have acted so arrogantly. Now, she was cowering in fear.
When another nurse returned with an update, Debbie anxiously grasped her arm and asked. "What's happening? Has Madam Thomas left?"
The nurse shook her head. "No, she's still outside."
Debbie's arrogance had completely vanished, replaced by a growing sense of unease and fear. What now? She had planned to have Patricia present so that if Bobby died, she could blame her for the failure, claiming it was due to Patricia's lack of skill.
But now Patricia wasn't there, and Bobby was gone. Without someone to take the fall, if Madam Thomas started pointing fingers, Debbie would be doomed.
With Madam Thomas's influence, Debbie couldn't bear to imagine the consequences.
Turning to the nurse, Debbie bit her lip, the fear in her eyes evident.
"It's a normal part of life; we did our best, and Madam Thomas won't blame us. If we don't bring him out now, rigor mortis will set in." the nurse reminded Debbie.
Debbie, in a fit of anger, slapped Bobby's body.
"Useless! I have tried everything, and you couldn't hold on. If only you had died at a more convenient time. I should've left you to Patricia; even in death, you'd be of more value by bringing her down with you.”
“What did Patricia do when you were bleeding out? Why could she manage, and I could not?" Debbie asked the dead body, appearing totally unhinged.
The nurses were shocked by her behavior, as they looked at Debbie with wide eyes, hardly believing that someone could be so heartless towards the lifeless body of a six-year-old child.
They disagreed with Debbie's actions but said nothing. Knowing she could delay no longer, Debbie took a deep breath, looked in the mirror, and adopted a grief-stricken expression.
She pinched her thigh hard enough to draw tears and then stepped out of the operating room.
As soon as the door opened, Madam Thomas made her way over, leaning on her cane. "How is Bobby?" she asked hurriedly.
Debbie, appeared with her head bowed and shoulders shaking, sobbed as she spoke.
"Madam Thomas, I'm sorry, despite my attempts, Bobby... Bobby didn’t make it. You should prepare his funeral."
As her words fell, the strength that had sustained Madam Thomas vanished, her vision darkened, and she collapsed to the ground.
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