She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 386

"Loyce? What happened to your hand?!" Heath's genuine, frantic concern buzzed in Holt's ears.

Loyce's gaze swept indifferently over the scabbed wounds on her hand. "Just a flesh wound. It's nothing."

Her eyes shifted past Heath, landing for a brief moment on the young man in the mask. His gaze was a chaotic storm of hatred, shock, despair, and an underlying trace of confusion.

"Who is this?" Loyce asked, though she already knew the answer.

Heath finally remembered the "nuisance" standing behind him. He sighed and stepped aside to introduce him. "He's a celebrity. Name's Holt. His vocal cords were severely burned by lye, and he missed the optimal window for treatment. I just finished his consultation."

Heath's tone carried the professional regret of a doctor, but little else. For a seasoned physician accustomed to life and death, the end of a pop star's career was a shame, but hardly a tragedy.

Suddenly, Heath pointed at Holt and turned back to Loyce. "Actually, maybe you have a solution for him, Loyce?"

"You have a solution?" Holt forced the words out, his voice agonizingly raspy. "Then why did you purposely destroy my throat at the concert?!"

Holt's hoarse accusation scraped against the air like sandpaper on glass, harsh and filled with desperate grief. The space around them instantly fell into a dead silence.

Heath and the other specialists standing nearby immediately darkened, their expressions turning thunderous as they glared at Holt with severe warnings.

"Young man!" Heath's voice cracked like a whip, harsher than ever before. "Watch your mouth! That is blatant slander!"

Another white-haired medical authority stepped forward, his tone grave. "You need evidence before you speak! Ms. Sampson is a universally acknowledged genius in our field. If she intervened, it was absolutely to save a life, not harm one!"

Loyce stood her ground, her face entirely devoid of panic or anger at the accusation.

She even tilted her head slightly, her eyes so calm they bordered on chilling as she looked at the emotionally unhinged Holt. "You think I did this to you?"

Holt lowered his head. "Everyone told me you were the one who delayed my treatment. My voice is ruined. Bianca is going to kick me out of the group. Heh..."

"You know my third brother," Loyce said flatly. "Why would I want to hurt you?"

"Third brother?" Holt blanked for a second. "You mean... Hank?"

Beside them, Heath's eyes lit up. "You can handle this kind of trauma repair?! Loyce, please, let us sit in on the procedure! You can give us old doctors another masterclass!"

These medical fanatics were staring at her with glowing eyes, like wolves looking at a piece of fresh meat. Their intense enthusiasm made Holt physically uncomfortable, but deep down, it also cemented a terrifying realization: there was definitely a conspiracy here that he had been entirely blind to.

Once he calmed down, he formally apologized to Loyce and handed her his card. "Please, contact me anytime."

Loyce took the card, exchanged a few more words with Heath and the others, and then turned to leave the hospital.

Somehow, word had leaked. Without anyone noticing, a massive crowd of rabid fans had gathered outside the military hospital annex.

They hadn't managed to find Vincent, but they immediately spotted Loyce. They recognized her as the "murderer"!

In an instant, the mob surged forward. Without warning, they began hurling water bottles straight at her head.

"Murderer!"