She Was Never Just a Pretty Face novel Chapter 190

Half an hour later.

The nurses informed them that only two people were allowed inside the ICU.

Catherine gave the opportunity to Hilda and little Annie.

Her heart was a chaotic mess of pain. Harrell was her only son, but she knew perfectly well who he cared about the most in this world. He would want to see Hilda and the girls. So she stayed out in the hallway, fulfilling her son's deepest wish.

The VIP room was deathly quiet.

So quiet you could hear a pin drop.

Annie gripped her mother's hand tightly.

She stared nervously at the man lying in the bed.

Hilda did the same.

She had practically dragged herself along the wall just to get inside.

Her face was streaked with dried tears she hadn't bothered to wipe away. She practically threw herself to the bedside, but the moment she saw Harrell wrapped in endless layers of white gauze, she clamped a hand over her mouth. She couldn't hold back the choked, agonizing sobs that tore from her throat.

Tears fell, one by one, splashing against the back of his hand.

He would never sit up again, gently wipe away her tears, and softly tell her, *Hilda, don't cry. I'm right here with you.*

The vibrant, living man from just hours ago.

Was now lying here in total silence.

—Devoid of all life.

Hilda slowly knelt beside the bed. Her trembling fingers gently hovered over him as her broken voice filled the room. "Harrell, I woke up so early today. I made your mom's favorite beef and potato stew. The food is all ready. I was waiting at home for you to bring her back so we could eat. Your mom is so heartbroken over the accident. Your dad and Mr. Judson flew all the way here too, and they're getting older. Please, promise me you'll wake up. Okay? If you wake up, I'll feed you the stew myself, and then we'll go back to Havenworth City. We'll never come back to this awful place again. Okay?"

The young man in the bed felt nothing.

He couldn't hear his wife's desperate pleas.

His body was locked away in a frozen, silent world.

The doctors had said his brain suffered catastrophic trauma.

If a miracle didn't happen, he would never wake up again.

He would be trapped in a coma forever.

Hilda slowly closed her eyes.

She gently rested her cheek against his hand, pretending he was the one caressing her, looking at her, comforting her. Pretending he had never left the house that morning. Pretending they were still wrapped together in the warmth of their bedroom, back when his body was still so warm.

Annie was young.

But she understood what was happening.

She held Harrell's other hand, crying silently.

In a very small, fragile voice, she called him "Daddy."

She was so full of regret. She had wanted to call him Daddy for so long.

But she had always felt too shy. If she had known her Daddy was going to end up lying in this bed, she would have said it a million times. Annie carefully pressed her little face against his arm, trying to transfer her own body heat to him. She wanted to keep him warm so he wouldn't be cold, so he wouldn't be in pain. So her Daddy wouldn't be scared.

Because Annie was right here with him.

In the dead of night, inside the silent ward.

The man lay absolutely still.

Surrounded by his weeping wife and daughter.

Luther stood outside.

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