Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 361

He was signaling to her that Oscar and Dannis were at their eleven o'clock and that he needed her cooperation.

Yvonne knew that if she helped him, she would be admitting she was, in fact, Yvonne.

However, Bennett gave her no time to hesitate, shoving the gun directly into her hands.

Yvonne gripped the weapon, her trembling fingertips tracing a few words onto Bennett's palm: *Your wound.*

"It won't kill me," Bennett replied, squeezing her hand and lowering his voice. He then drew his backup pistol and began moving toward the eleven o'clock position.

Even after all these years, their old rapport felt ingrained in their bones, allowing them to coordinate perfectly.

When the lights in the warehouse flickered back on, Oscar, Dannis, and their entire crew had been subdued.

Sandra had also been rescued.

After so long in the darkness, the sudden burst of light was agonizingly bright, stinging Yvonne's eyes.

She forced them open, and the first thing she saw was Bennett, kneeling on the ground, breathing heavily. A large, dark stain of blood was spreading across his chest and abdomen.

"Bennett!" Yvonne's lips trembled, but no sound came out, as if she had lost her voice.

She rushed to his side, reaching out for him, but a team of paramedics hurried over, creating a barrier between them.

"Mr. Thompson, hang in there." The medical team swiftly and efficiently lifted Bennett onto a stretcher. The ambulance then sped away, its siren wailing.

Yvonne collapsed onto the rough cement floor, a large pool of Bennett's blood staining the ground in front of her.

"Yvonne," Sandra said, rushing over and draping her coat over Yvonne's shoulders.

Emma glared at Yvonne, her eyes filled with a predatory rage.

"Emma," Frank said, walking over. He put an arm around his wife's shoulders, patting her reassuringly before turning his gaze to Yvonne.

His look was deep and sharp, a mixture of assessment and displeasure. "Ms. Jones, I presume. I'm afraid you're not welcome here."

Yvonne lowered her head, silent. She couldn't meet Frank's eyes. The man before her was no longer the warm, kind elder she once knew.

Frank had ordered her to leave, but Sandra knew Yvonne wouldn't go. Steeling herself, she stood in front of Yvonne and said, "Mr. Thompson, a hospital is a public place. You have no right to order us away."

As the wealthiest man in Istra, Frank had probably not been defied in a long time. He shot Sandra a cold look and was about to respond when the doors to the operating room swung open.

The lead surgeon was the first to emerge.