Justin did not trust this top private hospital, so he called the secretary to immediately get the helicopter, and was ready to take Lucia to a hospital abroad.
But these doctors scared him with "move and she'll die".
Justin was intimidated by the doctors' words. He could have not transferred her to another hospital, but he had to go in and see how his woman going!
In the end, Justin used his social status and connections to get the hospital to open the door to the resuscitation room for him.
He disinfected, changed his clothes, put on a hat, a mask, brushed his hands and nails with soap, and then walked into the resuscitation room.
Lucia, with tubes in her mouth and nose, lied quietly on the operating table, her legs propped high and open by a brace, her face as white as death.
She used to dare do anything, but since when did she become so vulnerable?
She was transfusing clear fluid in the back of one hand and plasma in the other.
It had been a day and two nights. Why did she still need a transfusion? How much blood did she lose?
The numbers on the instruments kept bouncing, the doctors spoke their jargon calmly among themselves, and the entire operating room felt like a war.
He was the only one standing there, not knowing what to do.
He didn't even dare to go over and take her hand for fear that he might accidentally hurt her.
Dizzy as hell, Justin turned around and walked quickly out of the resuscitation room, he couldn't stay in any longer.
Every whiff of disinfectant water burrowed into his nostrils, and all that came to mind was the image of Lucia’s face as tragically white as death.
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