Hold My Tear, I’m Getting My Wife Back (Leanne Castillo) novel Chapter 314

“Back to the hospital.”

At eleven o'clock at night, having just returned home and ready to rest, the hospital director received a phone call and rushed back to the hospital, heading straight for the security department.

Seated in front of the monitors were several professionals, clearly not hospital staff, methodically reviewing the surveillance footage in shifts.

Behind them, a man with a stern face and cold eyes stood against the wall, his expression utterly indifferent.

The director was overwhelmed.

“I've already heard about this afternoon's incident. Fortunately, Dr. Castillo wasn’t seriously injured. I’ll grant her a few days off to rest properly.”

Curtis remained unmoved, “I'm here to find someone, not to discuss her leave.”

“Do you think it was intentional?” the director advised, “With so many people in the hospital every day, accidents are inevitable. It's not the first time something like this has happened. Besides, Dr. Castillo is well-liked and hasn’t offended anyone. Why would anyone deliberately scald her? It must have been an accident.”

Curtis curled his lips in a cold smirk, “I don’t care if it was an accident or not. I’m rather unforgiving by nature. An eye for an eye. I funded your hospital’s new surveillance system, not for it to be just for show. If you can’t even find the person responsible.”

Curtis sharpened his icy gaze, “Then I suppose you’ll need to find someone to take the fall, don’t you think?”

The director felt more bitter than a mouthful of quinine.

He knew better than to cross Curtis, fearing that Sandra might have crossed paths with Leanne in the ophthalmology department and stirred up trouble, so he had sent her away for a three-month training.

Just his luck, trouble came knocking anyway.

Sitting in the director’s chair, he knew that political savvy often outweighed medical skills. Playing it safe was a key leadership trait.

Suzan arrived at the hospital during lunch break, while Claudine had gone home. Harrington was napping in his bed.

Suzan closed the door behind her and walked over to the bedside, her gaze slowly settling on the medicine tray on the cabinet.

As the door suddenly opened, Suzan quickly withdrew her hand.

Entering was a caregiver who greeted Suzan respectfully in a hushed tone, “Ms. Wright.”

The caregiver, in her thirties with plenty of experience, was efficient and honest, rarely speaking out of turn. Even when Harrington was in a bad mood and spoke harshly, she never talked back.

Being personally assigned by the Richardson family to look after them, she represented the family’s care and concern.

Indeed, over the past few days, both Harrington and Claudine had been very pleased with her service.