The Officer's Runaway Wife & Secret Son novel Chapter 585

Meeting her gaze, Daniel tucked the folder back into his briefcase and fastened the clasp.

"If it's not needed, that's for the best," he said mildly. "Though I would have vastly preferred it if he destroyed this letter himself."

Clara lowered her head, stepping squarely onto the shredded pieces of paper.

It wasn't needed.

She repeated the thought in her head.

At 5:40 AM, dawn was breaking.

Over those agonizing dozen hours that nearly drove her mad, Clara's mind hadn't stopped spinning for a second.

She had imagined the best outcomes and dreaded the worst.

She pictured Rhys pushing open the ICU doors and flashing her a smile, and she imagined Dr. Black taking off his mask and shaking his head.

After a while, she forced her mind completely blank.

As long as the red light was on, the surgery was ongoing. As long as it was ongoing, he was still alive.

Then, with a stark click, the red light snapped off.

Clara's heart seized.

Everyone in the hallway shot to their feet. Clara stood up too, but her legs refused to take a single step forward.

The airtight doors slid open, and Dr. Black stepped out, still wearing his mask.

Dark stains marred his scrubs, and his surgical cap was soaked with sweat, a testament to his sheer exhaustion.

Liam rushed forward first. "Dr. Black, how is he?"

Dr. Black pulled off his mask and let out a long, heavy breath. He surveyed the anxious crowd before locking eyes with Clara standing nearby.

"Given his old injuries and the severe pulmonary fibrosis, he suffered acute pleural and vascular adhesions mid-surgery. But fortunately, the transplant was a success."

Hearing those final words, Mia and Clara's mom nearly collapsed into each other's arms, sobbing. Clara's dad leaned against the wall, trembling for a long time before he could finally draw a full breath.

"Holy shit," Simon exhaled, slapping Alex so hard on the back that Alex winced in pain.

Clara opened her mouth.

All the words she hadn't said and the tears she hadn't shed all night merged into a solid lump, lodging firmly in her throat, refusing to go up or down.

Due to the massive blood loss, his face had taken on an ashen, lifeless pallor.

If not for the jagged lines dancing across the monitor, no one would believe the man on the bed was actually alive.

Clara started forward, desperate to throw herself at him, but Dr. Black stopped her.

"Not yet. He needs to go straight to the ICU. The surgery was a success, but the next forty-eight hours are critical for acute rejection and severe infection. Once he's stable, he'll be moved. Family members cannot get close right now. Please make way."

Suppressing her agony, she stepped aside to clear the path for the bed.

The nurses quickened their pace, wheeling the bed forward.

As the bed passed by Clara and Felix, intersecting with them for only a fleeting second, the ever-quiet Felix suddenly wrenched his hand out of Clara's grasp.

He understood the rules of adults: no crying, no throwing tantrums, no delaying Daddy's treatment.

His dad had said it would take a long time, and he was fully prepared to wait.

So he had been incredibly good. When he was hungry, he let Mr. Thorne take him to eat. When he was thirsty, he asked Grandma for water. When he was tired, he rested his head on his mother's or Daddy Simon's lap. When he woke up, he just kept his eyes glued to that light.

From last night until now, he hadn't shed a single tear.