She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 189

Hilda rushed to the hospital.

It was exactly 11 AM.

The exact time Harrell had promised to have her woken up.

She was awake now, standing here, waiting for her husband.

The red light above the operating room stayed relentlessly illuminated.

Inside, the surgical team was fighting desperately to save him. Harrell's assistant, Sebastian, had arrived even before Hilda.

He stayed by Hilda's side as she waited outside the doors.

Soon after, Eleanor Judson and her husband, Nathan Sanford, arrived.

—And Luther.

Aside from Hilda, the one most devastated was Eleanor.

She was Harrell's biological aunt, after all.

Everyone was consumed by agonizing anxiety and suffocating grief. No one knew if Harrell would live or die. Even the doctors couldn't offer any guarantees; all they could say was that they were doing everything humanly possible—

Luther stood silently in the hallway.

His gaze remained fixed on Hilda.

She looked terrifyingly fragile, needing Sebastian's physical support just to stay upright. She refused to sit down. She simply stared dead ahead at the operating room doors, her eyes wide and hollow. Luther had seen that exact look of pure devastation on her face once before.

—The night he had slapped her.

Total despair. Absolute helplessness.

Only this time, it was all for Harrell.

Lori hurried over.

She lowered her voice and reported to Luther, "It's confirmed. Jolie Lovell was the driver. She's been locked up. Harrell Judson was driving Hilda's car. Jolie definitely thought it was Hilda in the driver's seat. She rammed the car intending to kill her. Mr. Sanford, this is going to be an explosive scandal. I'll start locking down the press right away."

Luther gave a stiff nod.

Lori added, "I've already spoken to the hospital administration. They're sparing no expense. Every top specialist in Alpha City has been pulled in."

Luther didn't say another word.

Lori stepped back to handle the fallout.

...

A flurry of frantic footsteps echoed down the hall.

It was Catherine, Harrell's mother, rushing straight from the airport.

Alfred Ziegler had picked her up personally. He had broken the news to her during the drive.

She arrived at the hospital practically out of her mind with terror. The first thing she saw was Hilda standing frozen in front of the surgical doors, looking entirely broken from behind. A few feet away stood the Sanford family, their faces masked in grim concern.

Catherine walked toward them slowly.

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