The Wife You Buried Is Back from Hell novel Chapter 1257

Meanwhile, Sammie had rendezvoused with Alexander and Danielle.

Sammie’s gaze fell on Alexander’s chest, and his eyes narrowed, his expression instantly darkening. The gauze, which had barely managed to staunch the bleeding before, was now soaked in crimson. The stain was spreading at a visible rate, clearly indicating the wound had torn open again.

“The wound’s reopened,” Sammie stated grimly.

He turned and threw open the back of his SUV, revealing neatly arranged first-aid kits and two heavy-duty bulletproof vests.

“Quick, help him out!”

Danielle supported Alexander, watching as the man trembled from the pain. Cold sweat mixed with melting snow dripped down his temples, and his lips were bitten white, yet he refused to let out a single cry, only a suppressed groan escaping his throat.

Her fingertips shook violently, the warm, sticky blood on the gauze sending sharp pains through her heart.

Alexander was a dead weight, and it took all of Danielle’s strength, with Sammie’s help, to lower him onto a flat patch of snow.

Sammie knelt, his hands moving swiftly as he opened a first-aid kit, expertly pulling out antiseptic swabs, hemostats, and suture thread.

“Hold his shoulders down.”

Sammie didn’t look up as he spoke, already pressing a swab soaked in alcohol against the torn edges of Alexander’s wound with a hemostat.

Alexander shuddered in pain, instinctively trying to struggle away. His brow was knitted tightly, his face as pale as paper.

“Danielle, this is no time to be soft,” Sammie said sternly. “If you hesitate, we’ll all die on this ice shelf today. He’s in pain, and you feel for him, I get it. But being alive is more important than the pain.”

She took a deep breath, took the sedative, and inserted the needle into Alexander’s vein. As the cool liquid slowly entered his system, his tense body gradually relaxed.

Sammie seized the opportunity, speeding up his work—stopping the bleeding, suturing, and bandaging—all in one fluid motion. His fingers were stained with blood but incredibly steady, each stitch landing precisely on the edge of the wound.

Danielle knelt beside him, handing him gauze and disinfectant. As she watched the ghastly wound disappear under layers of bandages, the knot of fear in her chest eased slightly.

“Put this on.”

Sammie tossed a bulletproof vest to Danielle, then picked up the other and struggled to help Alexander into it. “Harold’s men are armed. This will give us an extra layer of protection.”