Three years of loving him, three days to erase myself from his world novel Chapter 347

*Had she imagined it?*

Clara furrowed her brows.

"Hey, don't move around! You'll blow the vein, and we'll have to stick you again. That'll hurt!" A nurse walked in, saw her propped up on one arm, and quickly reprimanded her.

Clara paused and awkwardly lay back down. After a moment of hesitation, she asked, "Did you see where the man who brought me here went?"

The nurse adjusted her IV drip and glanced at her. "You mean Mr. Jarrett? He stepped out to take a call. He'll be back shortly. He told me to take good care of you. Just press the call button if you need anything."

*So he really had helped her.* Clara nodded, her eyes growing a little hot. "Okay..."

The nurse hummed in acknowledgment and left the room.

Clara lay in bed, staring blankly ahead. She remembered Dominic's kindness, just as she remembered everything Julian and Seraphina had done to her... Before she left tomorrow, she was going to make sure they paid the price!

*Don't wealthy families fear scandals more than anything?*

*Then she would make them bleed a little!*

A dark, vindictive gleam flashed through Clara's eyes.

Just then, the phone resting on the nightstand began to ring.

It was her phone.

Clara snapped back to reality, propping herself up to reach for it.

It was her sister.

She answered it.

Instantly, Rosalie's frantic voice poured through the speaker. "Clara, something's wrong, something's terribly wrong! Miles's heart donor had been snatched away, and The Memory Specialists had vanished too..."

Clara's heart hammered wildly, her face draining of color in an instant. She gripped the phone tightly. "What? Wasn't the heart donor already confirmed? How could someone snatch it away? And The Memory Specialists..."

Rosalie sobbed, "I don't know either. It must have been snatched by some powerful billionaire..."

*A powerful billionaire?*

Who else in the capital would dare not to show deference to Julian Lowell?

Clara thought bleakly.

Rosalie was falling apart. "Clara, what do we do now? Miles has been doing pre-op prep for days. Everything was ready to go, and now this happens at the very last second... sob... What do we do? Without the donor heart and the specialists operating, Miles might not make it through this time..."

Clara's fingers suddenly trembled, and the phone slipped from her grasp, tumbling onto the bed.

The phrase *'might not make it through'* stabbed into her chest like a serrated knife. She didn't even dare to imagine what would happen if something went wrong with little Miles.

Her face paper-white, she picked the phone back up, forcing herself to sound calm to comfort her sister.

"Rosalie, please don't cry yet. I'll ask Julian. Worst comes to worst, I'll go straight to the cardiac center and demand answers..."

"..."

She hung up.

Clara didn't dare delay a single second. She yanked the IV needle out of the back of her hand, grabbed her phone, slipped on her shoes, and hurried out of the ward.

As she made her way downstairs to hail a cab, she dialed Julian's number.

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