Two hours had ticked by, and Chase was still nowhere to be seen.
Once more, the Ferris Wheel Restaurant called.
“Ms. Sasha, when will you be arriving? We'll have to cancel your reservation if you’re not here within the next thirty minutes.”
Sasha glanced out the door and replied, “Alright, if I’m not there in half an hour, go ahead and cancel.”
After hanging up, she stepped outside.
She had filmed here before and knew exactly where the operating room was located.
Sasha made a beeline for the elevator, which ascended to the tenth floor before halting.
Just as she was about to head toward the operating room, the sound of a woman's soft sobs echoed through the corridor.
“Doctor, our surgery was a success, so why did she still pass away? That poor girl.”
Sasha froze in her tracks.
She recognized the voice. It was Chase’s junior, Amanda.
She could piece together what had happened: the patient they had been trying to save must have died.
But hearing Amanda cry in front of Chase made an inexplicable ache bloom in Sasha’s chest.
Her fingers curled involuntarily as if trying to suppress the unease welling up inside her.
That was when she heard Chase’s voice.
“Amanda, what’s wrong?”
Amanda’s voice was weak. “Doctor, I think I haven’t eaten in a while. I might be hypoglycemic.”
Then, she collapsed into Chase's arms, unconscious.
Without hesitation, Chase scooped her up and dashed out of the stairwell.
He caught sight of Sasha standing at the door.
There was no time for explanations. All he could manage was, “Sasha, head home. I’ve got things to handle here.”
As Sasha watched their retreating figures, her eyes began to sting.
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