The hospital administration and the police arrived at the scene almost simultaneously.
"Are you hurt?"
Upon entering the room, the officers naturally split into two teams. One group headed straight for the bathroom to inspect the showerhead, while the others approached Nora.
Technically, Nathan was also a victim. However, one look at the man—his predatory gaze sharp as a hawk, his body coiled tight with an intimidating, unapproachable aura—convinced the cops to skip comforting him.
Between the two, Nora certainly looked the part of the victim. Her hair was soaking wet, and a towel was draped over her shoulders. She looked so fragile that a strong gust of wind might knock her over.
The responding officers were the same ones who had handled the falling object case earlier. Knowing Nora had survived two near-death experiences in a single day, they looked at her with profound sympathy. Beneath that sympathy lay a burning anger toward the perpetrator.
A collective thought crossed their minds: Had Dr. Hayes crossed the wrong person? Why else would she be targeted back-to-back?
Nora had been asking herself the exact same question. In truth, she had sensed something was wrong the moment the showerhead sputtered. But in the heat of the moment, survival instincts had overridden logic.
After Nathan helped her to the bed, she began weighing whether to give them Mia Hayes’s name. She knew Mia wasn't capable of pulling off something this sophisticated. But Mia was arrogant and terrible at keeping secrets. If she was involved, a simple bluff would expose her.
"We finished the inspection," an officer announced, stepping out of the bathroom.
"A timer was rigged inside the showerhead. Once the hot water ran for a few minutes and hit a certain temperature, the device activated, spraying blood. When the blood bag emptied, the pressure caused it to burst, which was strong enough to blow the showerhead off the wall."
Calling it an explosion was a bit of an exaggeration. It was essentially a miniaturized prank device. Even a novice could buy the parts and assemble it. However, the police noted that the craftsmanship was crude—likely a half-finished job by someone with basic experience.
"I've collected the blood samples. The bathroom is all tile, so we couldn't pull any viable fingerprints or footprints. Right now, we only have two leads: tracing the blood source and checking the security footage."

Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Captain I Married by Chance
Has the book been abandoned?...