The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 577

Evelyn let out a tense breath.

"Blood pressure?"

"Sixty over forty... it's still dropping—" another nurse stammered, staring wide-eyed at the monitor, her voice trembling.

"Crack his chest," Evelyn ordered.

A heavy silence slammed into the operating room.

The lead surgeon stared at her. "Are you absolutely certain?"

"The most probable cause of this cardiac arrest is cardiac tamponade. The impact from the crash caused pericardial effusion, compressing his heart." Evelyn already had her hand out. "Scalpel."

The surgeon hesitated for a split second before slapping the blade into her palm.

The moment the steel parted the skin, Evelyn's hands were as steady as a machine's.

Blood welled up. It wasn't a geyser, but the sight of it was enough to induce panic.

A young nurse beside them averted her eyes, unable to stomach the scene.

Evelyn never looked up. "Retractor."

No one moved.

"Retractor!" her voice snapped like a whip.

The lead surgeon scrambled to hand it over.

The rib retractor cranked open, exposing the heart.

The pericardial sac was engorged like a balloon, filled with dark blood.

"Just as I thought. Cardiac tamponade." Evelyn's voice dropped to a terrifyingly calm murmur, her hands never stopping. "Suction."

The pooling blood was cleared away. The heart came into view—it was still beating, but weakly, quivering in the chest cavity like a terrified little animal.

Evelyn rapidly inspected the pericardium and located the source of the bleed. It was a tiny tear on the left ventricular wall.

"Suture."

Her hands moved in a blur, threading the needle through Louis's heart muscle with absolute precision. Every stitch was flawless; every movement was rock-solid.

The medical staff around her held their breath, terrified to even make a sound.

One stitch. Two. Three.

The bleeding stopped.

Evelyn set the needle down and took a step back.

"Irrigate. Close him up."

Her voice remained perfectly composed, but a sheen of sweat now coated her forehead. A nurse quickly offered her a piece of sterile gauze, which she took to dab her brow.

The room was dead silent.

The only sound was the steady, rhythmic beeping of the EKG monitor—much stronger now.

Evelyn watched the screen as his heart rate climbed from forty to a stable ninety.

His blood pressure was climbing back up, too.

She leaned heavily against the edge of the operating table, bracing her weight on her hands, and briefly closed her eyes.

"Dr. Sullivan?" the lead surgeon asked cautiously. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine." She opened her eyes. "I leave the rest in your hands. Be extremely careful when placing the chest tube to avoid the sutured site. Keep him under strict twenty-four-hour observation, and don't push the anticoagulants too fast—"

She rattled off the post-op instructions clearly, her expression betraying no panic.

But her hands were shaking.