The Year I Stopped Being His novel Chapter 368

Quinn's heart nearly stopped in her chest!

Having worked alongside Garrison Foster's medical team for years, no one understood the horrific reality better than she did.

While The Vitas Strain could flawlessly eradicate cancer cells, the raw, unencapsulated bacterial culture possessed catastrophic invasiveness and cytotoxicity toward healthy human cells.

This kind of toxicity wasn't an instant killer like cyanide. Instead, it would aggressively seep through the epidermis, infiltrate the dermis, and breach the capillaries to spread through her bloodstream...

Once inside, it would mimic the surface receptors of cancer cells, mercilessly attacking every single healthy, dividing cell in her body.

Her skin would be the first to rot, followed by her blood, and finally, a devastating cascade of internal organ failure. If she didn't receive antibody neutralization within a terrifyingly short window, she would die of acute multi-organ failure!

And there was only one person on earth who had access to The Vitas Strain antibodies.

Garrison.

*

Quinn collapsed onto the freezing floor outside the lab. She pressed her back against the wall, the chill seeping through the fabric of her coat, but she was entirely numb to the cold.

Her mind went totally blank—a horrifying, absolute void. Every sound, image, and coherent thought was swallowed by a deafening, buzzing wave of primal terror.

Slowly, she looked down at her hand.

The tips of her right fingers were already flushing an unnatural, sickly red. It wasn't the dark, bruised purple of frostbite, nor the superficial pink of an allergic reaction. It was a searing, radiant crimson boiling up from beneath the skin, as if her flesh had been set on fire from the inside.

She stared at her fingers for a few agonizing seconds before her hand began to tremble violently.

She panicked.

The fear didn't creep up on her; it crashed down like a bucket of ice water dumped over her head, soaking into her very bones.

To hell with Vanessa Vaughan. To hell with their deal. To hell with revenge, and making Garrison taste his own lack of trust. In that single moment, every bitter scheme shattered into dust.

She didn't want revenge anymore. She didn't want The Vitas Strain. She didn't want anything!

She pulled her knees to her chest, burying her face in her arms, curling into the smallest ball possible.

Tears dripped through the gaps in her arms, splashing onto the floor and blooming into dark, wet patches. "I'll do anything you want, anything at all! Just please save me, please—"

When Garrison sprinted back to the hospital, this was the sight that greeted him.

Quinn was crumpled on the floor outside the lab, her back pressed against the icy wall, her legs tucked tight to her side as if all the strength had been drained from her body.

Her pristine trench coat was filthy. Strands of hair stuck to her wet cheeks, her face a mess of tears and smeared mascara.

Her right hand, already in the grips of necrosis, hung limply over her knee. The blisters around the webbing of her thumb had burst, weeping a pale, cloudy yellow fluid mixed with blood that dripped steadily onto the hem of her coat.

Near her feet lay the cracked cryogenic vial. The ethereal blue liquid had almost entirely leaked out, leaving only a faint, eerie glow pooling at the bottom of the glass.

Garrison recognized it instantly. It was—The Vitas Strain!

Archie, trailing right behind him, instinctively rushed forward to help his aunt. Garrison threw his arm out, physically blocking his son. "Do not go near her."