“Critical condition...” Camila turned her head like a puppet, muttering under her breath.
Connor’s heart clenched. He gripped her hand tightly. “It’s going to be okay. Dr. Tom will be here soon.”
“We need to get out and walk to a clearer area to catch a cab!” Connor said with determination.
“Okay.”
Connor couldn’t tell if Camila was nodding or just shivering.
Logan was anxiously checking the GPS, constantly zooming in on the map.
“It’s jammed for about a mile or two,” he said, frowning helplessly.
Connor couldn’t wait any longer. He swiftly opened the car door, circled the car, and came to Camila’s side. Gently, he helped her out of the car, letting her lean on him.
Camila’s legs were weak, and only with Connor’s support could she barely stand.
Logan followed them out of the car, looking around worriedly. There were no shortcuts nearby.
Vroom, vroom, vroom —
The sound of a vehicle approached from afar.
Connor turned around and saw a motorcycle skillfully weaving through the traffic, bypassing the jammed cars and heading in their direction.
A glimmer of hope flashed in Connor’s eyes. He quickly stepped into the middle of the road, waving to signal the motorcyclist to stop.
Slowing down, the motorcyclist pulled up in front of Connor.
“Bro, can you help out? Lend me your bike!” Connor pleaded urgently. “We need to get to the hospital!”
Logan looked at Connor in astonishment, hardly believing his ears. Ever since that accident, Connor had developed a deep fear and aversion to motorcycles. He hadn’t ridden one since, nor did he even like to mention them.
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