The Real Heiress Is Coming Back (Hannah Carter) novel Chapter 80

Chapter 80

Chapter 80

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She spoke with unshakable conviction. “The Nameless Healer will definitely cure Pamela’s condition. So please, don’t interfere with your amateur arrangements.”

Just then, Hannah’s phone vibrated. Seeing Barnaby’s name on the screen, she stepped aside to take the call.

Magnus’ frantic voice came through immediately. “Ms. Carter, it’s Barnaby. He’s critically injured. I don’t think he’ll make it. Where are you?”

The words hit Hannah like a physical blow, stealing her breath for a moment.

“Ms. Carter? Are you there?” Magnus pressed.

“Pick me up at Croft Manor,” she managed, her voice tight before ending the call.

Turning to Wolfram, she said simply, “I have to leave.”

Wolfram noted her pale complexion. “Hannah, is everything…”

But she was already walking away, her retreating figure moving with urgent purpose.

“Owen, see her out,” Wolfram instructed.

Nodding, Owen hurried after her.

Teresa watched with a faint, superior smile. “Really, Wolfram, if you’re going to find a doctor, at least choose someone credible. The moment I mentioned the Nameless Healer, she couldn’t get away fast enough.”

“That’s not what happened,” Wolfram replied sternly before walking away. “She clearly had a genuine emergency.”

“Of course she did,” Teresa said dismissively before returning to Pamela’s room.

Inside, Daisy emerged from the bedchamber. “Is everything alright, Mrs. Croft?”

Teresa chuckled. “Wolfram brought some self-proclaimed doctor here, just a kid really. When I mentioned you were on the case, she turned tail and ran.”

She took Daisy’s hand, her tone turning earnest. “Please, do everything you can for Pamela. You’re our best hope.”

Daisy felt the weight of Teresa’s expectations. This wasn’t just about Pamela’s health anymore. Teresa had staked her credibility on Daisy’s success.

Daisy’s smile tightened almost imperceptibly at the edges.

She knew all too well the limitations of modern medicine when it came to rheumatoid arthritis. It was a condition that could be managed, but never truly cured.

Even with treatment, the disease would inevitably progress.

This was one of those medical mysteries that continued to baffle doctors worldwide. She doubted even the real Nameless Healer could work miracles where modern science had failed.

“I’ll do everything I can,” Daisy said, her gentle smile returning to her lips.

*****

Hannah stepped out of Croft Manor just as a helicopter descended from the sky.

10:56 Mon, Dec 22

Chapter 80

The door slid open, and Magnus jumped out, gesturing urgently for her to board.

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Owen reached the entrance just in time to see the helicopter lifting off, its familiar silhouette shrinking against the starry sky.

“Since when did Hannah know Magnus?” he wondered aloud.

Inside the cabin, Hannah buckled her seatbelt with practiced ease. “What’s his condition?” she asked without preamble.

Magnus noted her familiarity with aircraft operations before answering grimly. “The bullet’s lodged in his inner thigh, pressing against the femoral artery.

“Percival and the hospital surgeons won’t risk removal. Any misstep could send fragments into his bloodstream straight to

the heart.”

“Without surgery, the compressed artery restricts blood flow. Tissue necrosis has already begun.

“The medical consensus is to prioritize saving his life over the limb, but Barnaby refused that option.

“He lost significant blood, developed a severe infection, and drifted in and out of consciousness. His condition was critical, but he made us promise not to tell you. He didn’t want you to worry.

“Now he’s slipped into a full coma, his fever won’t break… We’re afraid he might…” He trailed off, his voice strained, unable to finish the sentence.

Hannah felt her chest tighten, each breath becoming a conscious effort.

So this was why Barnaby had gone silent. He’d been fighting for his life while she wondered about his silence.

What hurt most was realizing he hadn’t trusted her medical skills enough to reach out.

“Barnaby was already off active duty for health reasons,” Magnus said. “He’d moved to a desk job. But when our team got stuck on a messy operation last month, we had no choice but to call him back to the field.

“Damn it! I knew he wasn’t at full capacity, and I still asked him. Then I failed to watch his back properly. Now he’s taken a bullet because of me.” He drove his fist into the cushion, his voice thick with guilt.

Hannah shifted uncomfortably, never one for soothing words. “Don’t blame yourself,” she said quietly. “He made his choice.”

Magnus gave a grim nod. After nine years of having each other’s backs in life-or-death situations, they both knew the truth. If their positions were reversed, Barnaby would have made the same choice without hesitation.

“Tell Percival to have the OR ready, and get a set of needles. We operate the moment we land,” Hannah continued.

“You…” Magnus stared at her in astonishment.

He had brought Hannah along so she could see Barnaby one last time if the worst were to happen, not to perform surgery.

While he knew from Percival that Hannah had medical training and had been treating Barnaby, this was a complex bullet extraction, a procedure that had stumped even Percival and the most skilled surgeons at the hospital.

He couldn’t help but doubt her capability.

“What are you waiting for?” Hannah shot him a glance when he didn’t move.

That single look brooked no argument.

“Right,” he acknowledged, immediately contacting Percival.

10:56 Mon, Dec 22 GJO

Chapter 80

90

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Hannah, meanwhile, sent a quick text to Felicity, informing her she wouldn’t be back for the next couple of days.

As her message went through, she turned to gaze out at the dark expanse beyond the window, a silent plea forming in her mind. ‘Hold on, Barnaby. I’m coming.

Twenty minutes later, the helicopter touched down at the covert military hospital.

Magnus led Hannah directly to the conference room adjacent to the operating suite.

Inside, Percival and several senior surgeons were deep in discussion over the surgical approach.

The doctors eyed Hannah with open skepticism upon seeing her youth. She barely looked of age.

Yet Percival had already pulled up their proposed surgical plans and Barnaby’s charts for her review.

The sterile needles she had specifically requested lay prepared alongside standard surgical equipment, awaiting her use.

“How many assistants will you need, Ms. Carter?” Percival asked.

Having witnessed Hannah previously pull Barnaby back from critical illness, he maintained instinctive confidence in her ability to snatch him from death’s grasp now.

“Just you,” Hannah replied.

After briefly reviewing the CT scans to confirm the bullet’s trajectory, she swept her hair into a bun, scrubbed in with efficient motions, and donned surgical garb before collecting the needles and striding into the OR.

Every movement was economical and precise.

“Of course,” Percival said, following without hesitation.

The surrounding physicians exchanged stunned glances.

Not only was the renowned Percival playing assistant to this young woman, but she also proposed tackling this high-risk procedure with just one pair of helping hands.

To them, it seemed like professional recklessness to attempt what their entire team couldn’t achieve with just two people.

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