Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer's Begs (Scarlett) novel Chapter 139

Chapter 139 Midnight Emergency

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The moment Scarlett heard Vanessa was sick, her heart plummeted to her stomach. She immediately threw off the covers and jumped out of bed, not even bothering that she was still in her pajamas, and hurried out of her bedroom in a frantic rush.

While rushing downstairs, her slippers barely touching the steps, she asked urgently into the phone, “What happened? Wasn’t she perfectly fine this afternoon?”

Vincent, on the other end, had somewhat calmed down from his initial panic, his voice now much softer but still laced with concern. “Lily said Vanessa went upstairs after dinner complaining of stomach pain. Not long after, she vomited everything she’d eaten.”

Scarlett grew even more anxious upon hearing this and quickened her pace downstairs, her heart hammering against her ribs.

It was already quite late, the household settled into nighttime quiet, so she didn’t want to disturb anyone. She simply snatched her car keys from the entryway console and drove straight to Ravenshade Villa, her knuckles white on the steering wheel.

When she arrived, she found Lily pacing anxiously in the living room, holding a pale-looking Vanessa with a frantic, helpless expression.

The moment Lily heard the door open, the profound worry in her eyes eased slightly, replaced by a wave of relief. “Mrs. Stewart, you’re finally back,” she breathed out.

Lily looked as if she were on the verge of tears at the sight of Scarlett, her composure frayed after hours of worry.

Though it was still raining outside, it wasn’t as heavy as it had been that morning, now just a steady, dreary drizzle.

In her panic, Scarlett hadn’t bothered with an umbrella, and her thin pajamas were now half- soaked, clinging uncomfortably to her skin.

She dropped her car keys onto the side table with a clatter, didn’t even change her shoes, and went straight to Lily, taking Vanessa into her arms with a practiced, maternal movement,

Vanessa had been dozing fitfully, restless and uncomfortable. When she felt the familiar safety of Scarlett’s embrace, she opened her eyes weakly and murmured, “Mom,” her voice thin and reedy.

Scarlett leaned down and gently brushed Vanessa’s forehead with the back of her hand. It didn’t feel hot-probably not a fever, she noted with a sliver of relief.

“Vanessa, tell me, does anything else hurt?” Scarlett asked softly, her professional instincts

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kicking in automatically, her voice calm and reassuring.

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As a pediatric surgeon, she knew exactly what signs to look for, her mind already running through a checklist of possibilities.

Vanessa lay limply in her arms, too exhausted and miserable to argue with Scarlett anymore, all earlier resentment forgotten in her vulnerability.

And when you’re feeling weak and unwell, you naturally crave the comfort of someone you love, the primal need for a parent’s care overriding everything else.

Seeing Scarlett now felt like spotting an oasis in the desert after a long, desperate trek.

Vanessa nestled deeper into Scarlett’s arms, seeking warmth and security, her voice hoarse and faint. “Mom, my stomach hurts. A lot. And I feel dizzy, like the room is spinning.”

Scarlett gently pressed Vanessa’s abdomen with skilled fingers, asking specific questions as she performed a preliminary examination, her touch light and probing.

After her assessment, Scarlett suspected it was likely a digestive issue, perhaps something she ate or a stomach bug.

Even though she was a doctor herself, some conditions required proper testing—she knew better than to jump to conclusions without concrete evidence, her medical training overriding her maternal worry.

Without a moment’s hesitation, she adjusted her grip and lifted Vanessa securely into her arms. “Vanessa, I’m taking you to the hospital. We need to get an abdominal ultrasound to be sure what’s going on,” she explained calmly.

Vanessa’s eyes welled with fresh tears at the mention of the hospital, fear flashing in their glassy depths. “Mom, I’m scared,” she whimpered, clutching at Scarlett’s damp pajama top.

Scarlett stroked her cheek soothingly, her touch gentle and reassuring. “Don’t be scared, sweetheart. I’m right here with you. I won’t leave you,” she promised, her voice firm.

No matter what disagreements they had, what tensions lay between them, Vanessa’s health would always, always come first-that was non-negotiable,

Scarlett carried Vanessa out of Ravenshade Villa and into the damp night, with Lily following closely behind, holding an umbrella over them as best she could.

They headed straight to the hospital. After Scarlett arranged for Vanessa’s ultrasound, she reviewed the results and confirmed it was indigestion accompanied by some abdominal lymph node inflammation, nothing critically serious but certainly uncomfortable for the child.

Vanessa looked pale and weak, her energy completely sapped, so Scarlett decided to keep her in

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the emergency observation room for a few hours until she stabilized and showed signs of improvement.

She prescribed digestive medication and probiotics. Lily brought a cup of water, and Scarlett carefully fed Vanessa the medicine, holding the cup to her lips with infinite patience.

After taking the medication, Vanessa was too restless to fall asleep. She leaned against the bed, looking at Scarlett with tired, weary eyes. “Mom, I’m hungry,” she whispered plaintively.

Having emptied her stomach earlier, it was no surprise she felt hungry now, her body craving nourishment.

Scarlett’s heart ached at the sight of Vanessa so diminished. She gently stroked Vanessa’s damp forehead, pushing back her hair. “What would you like to eat? I’ll go get it for you right now,” she offered softly.

“I want some oatmeal,” Vanessa whispered, her voice small.

Scarlett managed a soft, reassuring smile. “Okay. Plain one it is. I’ll be back soon.”

She instructed Lily to stay with Vanessa, not to leave her side for a moment, then grabbed the umbrella and left the hospital room.

She had been rushing around all evening, propelled by adrenaline, and only now, stepping outside into the cool night air, did she realize she was still in her pajamas-her hair disheveled, her clothes damp and wrinkled, looking completely frazzled and out of place.

She walked a few hundred feet from the hospital, the streetlights casting long, watery reflections on the wet pavement, when suddenly the rain intensified, coming down in thick, heavy sheets. Even with the umbrella held firmly, her shoes and pajamas were quickly soaked through, the fabric clinging coldly to her skin.

But thinking of Vanessa’s hunger, the plaintive look in her eyes, she braved the rain and headed resolutely toward a 24-hour restaurant she knew was nearby.

She left her dripping umbrella at the entrance and pushed the door open, the bell jingling overhead, only to bump directly into a familiar figure-Abbott.

Abbott frowned in surprise upon seeing Scarlett in her sodden pajamas, her hair a mess. “Mrs. Stewart?” he asked, his tone a mixture of confusion and concern.

Scarlett replied with a quiet, distracted “Yeah,” and suddenly, sharply, remembered Vincent.

She had been so utterly consumed with worry for Vanessa, so single-minded in her focus, that she had completely forgotten about Vincent until this very moment.

Vanessa was sick—no matter how busy he was, he should have returned to Ravenshade Villa.

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That was his responsibility as a father.

In such an emergency, if he couldn’t reach her, shouldn’t he, as the father, have already taken their daughter to the hospital himself? The thought ignited a spark of anger amidst her worry.

She hadn’t had time to process these thoughts earlier, the chaos of the evening pushing them aside, but seeing Abbott now, all these questions surged to the forefront of her mind, demanding answers.

Almost instinctively, her voice tight, she asked, “Is Vincent still working?”

Abbott looked momentarily confused, taken aback by the abrupt question. “Huh?” he responded, blinking.

Scarlett’s brow furrowed deeply, her patience wearing thin. “Vanessa is sick. He told me he had to work late and had an important meeting tonight. Is he still in that meeting?” she pressed, her words sharp.

It was already past ten o’clock. Sure, he often worked overtime, that was his pattern, but rarely this late, especially on a night like this.

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Awakened Housewife Ignore Betrayer’s Begs