The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 322

Wailing alarm—

A piercing alarm echoed through the lab, and at the same time, the airtight door was slammed open.

"Garrison! Are you out of your mind? Put the mask back on!"

Vivienne rushed in with several staff members, her voice laced with a rare sense of panic.

Several staff members in protective suits charged in. They grabbed his arms from both sides and forcefully pulled him away from Sloane. His fingers were still gripping her clothes, holding on so tightly that when they dragged him back, the fabric slipped from his fingertips, emitting the faintest sound of friction against the ice crystals.

Someone slammed the mask back onto his face, and they shoved him toward the exit. His footsteps faltered slightly as he looked back at her—she lay there, her face carrying the same quiet, detached expression, as if she were trapped in a dream she would never wake from.

*

In the medical bay of Endurance Station, Vivienne used a cotton swab to apply ointment to Garrison's face bit by bit.

His cheekbones, the tip of his nose, and the edges of his lips were an unnatural dark red—mild frostbite. Fortunately, his mask hadn't been off long enough to cause severe tissue damage.

The ointment was a custom blend for frostbite made at the station, carrying a faint scent of mint. When applied to the skin, it delivered a cooling sensation followed by a slightly warm sting. Garrison sat motionless on the examination bed, letting her treat him.

Vivienne tossed the cotton swab into the trash bin, screwed the cap back onto the ointment, and straightened up, her voice returning to its usual composure.

"Dr. Foster, if you pull a stunt like that again, I'm sorry, but I will unilaterally terminate Project Evernight."

"You know I mean what I say."

Garrison looked up at her. The bloodshot veins in his eyes hadn't fully faded, but his gaze had already returned to its usual calm.

"Understood."

He forced out a single word.

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify