The Unwavering Heart That Broke (Nathalie and Lance) novel Chapter 627

"Wait, Nathalie, what are you doing? At least tell me where we're going!" Nicol asked, thoroughly bewildered.

Nathalie stopped and pointed down the hall. She opened her mouth to answer, but the horrifying realization that she couldn't speak hit her all over again. Her expression went blank for a second before she pulled out her phone and typed.

*[To see Felice James.]*

Nicol frowned. "But she's still unconscious."

Nathalie didn't type anything else. She just stared at him with unyielding determination.

"Alright, alright, I'll take you," Nicol surrendered, feeling a pang of sympathy. He led the way down the corridor.

Felice was in a heavily monitored room. She was incredibly frail, looking pale as a ghost beneath an oxygen mask.

Nathalie stood by the bed, her eyes devoid of any warmth.

"Her body took a massive hit," Nicol explained softly. "With the gunshot and the blood loss, if they hadn't operated the second we got her here, she'd be in a body bag."

Nathalie didn't react. She just stared at the woman who had ruined their lives. After a long, agonizing silence, Nathalie suddenly reached out and slammed her hand directly over the gunshot wound on Felice's abdomen.

She pressed down. Hard.

The stitches instantly tore. Fresh crimson blood bloomed rapidly across the white bandages and soaked through the hospital gown.

Even in her coma, Felice's face contorted in sheer agony, her brows knitting together tightly.

Nathalie didn't let up. She leaned into it, pushing her fingers deeper into the fresh wound.

At the mention of an antidote, the pain on Felice's face vanished for a split second. Her eyes darted to Nathalie, analyzing her intensely. Once she realized Nathalie was physically fine—just standing there silently—her brow furrowed.

If the bitch wasn't dead, why were they begging for an antidote?

Then it clicked. The jungle. The powder. Was Lance dying?

A hysterical, broken laugh bubbled up from Felice's throat, quickly turning into a groan as the movement aggravated her bleeding stomach. Her face twisted into a grotesque mask of agony and psychotic glee.

Nicol glared at her. "I asked you a question. What the hell is so funny?"

Felice squeezed her eyes shut, fighting through the pain to catch her breath. "Is Lance dying? Ha... Hahaha! Ugh... You killed him!"

She looked at Nathalie with pure venom. "Every tragedy that hits the people around you is your fault! Camilla is dying. Lance is dying. Damaris is missing. And that old hag Adelaide has lost her mind. Ha... It's all because of you! You're a curse, Nathalie!"