True Heiress Returns to Her Unemployed Rich Family (Arabella) novel Chapter 181

Chapter 181 A Desperate Race for Treatment

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“Everything alright back there, ma’am?” the driver asked, glancing worriedly into the rearview mirror. The young man looked pale and was sweating; the last thing he needed was a medical emergency in his backseat.

“He’s hurt his hand. Just drive steady, but please get us there fast,” Harper urged, her voice tight. She was trying to keep calm for Dylan’s sake, seeing him wince with every bump in the road.

“Hang in there, Dylan. We’re almost to another hospital. You’re gonna be okay,” she said softly, using the sleeve of her sweater to dab the cold sweat from his forehead. Her words were more for her own reassurance than his.

“Harper… I can’t… It’s really bad,” Dylan groaned, his words slurred with pain. He cradled his injured hand against his chest.

“I know it hurts. Just hold on a little longer. They’ll fix it at the hospital,” she murmured, feeling utterly helpless. There was nothing she could do but keep him talking and hope the driver hurried up.

Thankfully, the driver weaved through the evening traffic with practiced skill, and before long, the bright lights of the hospital emergency entrance came into view.

“We’re here,” Harper said, relief flooding her voice as she helped Dylan out of the cab. She practically carried him through the automatic doors into the brightly lit, sterile–smelling lobby.

“Someone, please! My boyfriend’s hurt! We need a doctor!” Harper called out, her voice echoing slightly in the spacious area.

A young doctor in blue scrubs, who had been walking across the lobby with a chart, heard her plea and changed course, heading toward them.

“What happened to his hand?” the doctor asked, his eyes immediately assessing the awkward angle and swelling.

“It’s broken, I think. Please, you have to help him. He’s in so much pain,” Harper said, tears welling up despite her efforts to hold them back.

The doctor’s expression shifted from professional concern to something more guarded. He remembered the memo that had circulated earlier–a specific description to watch for. This matched it.

“Miss,” he said, lowering his voice, “I’m sorry, but our trauma bays are all full right now. We’ve got multiple critical cases coming in. You’d be better off trying St. Vincent’s or University Hospital. They might have more capacity.” He spoke carefully, avoiding her pleading eyes.

If not for the direct instruction from the chief resident, he’d have taken them straight back.

His words hit Harper like a physical blow. “Not you, too?!” she cried out, disbelief turning to despair. “Please, just check again! Isn’t there anyone else? Anywhere we can wait?”

She grabbed his sleeve without thinking. “I’m begging you. We just came from another place, and they turned us away too. He needs help now.”

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Chapter 181 A Desperate Race for Treatment

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The doctor looked at the terrified young woman and the ashen–faced man leaning heavily on her. A pang of sympathy shot through him, but his hands were tied. Hospital politics and orders from above weren’t things he could ignore.

“Miss, I’m really sorry. I wish I could do more. But you need to get him somewhere else, and fast,” he said, gently pulling his arm back before walking away, his steps hurried as if to outrun his own discomfort.

“Doctor, wait!” Harper called after him, but he didn’t turn around. Standing alone in the middle of the bustling lobby, with Dylan’s weight against her, she felt a crushing wave of helplessness. What were they supposed to do now?

Tears finally spilled over, tracing hot paths down her cheeks. She didn’t even bother to wipe them away.

Through gritted teeth, Dylan managed to get a sentence out. “Harper… call home.”

Snapping back to focus, Harper fumbled frantically in her bag for her phone. Her fingers trembled as she scrolled through her contacts and tapped on Freya’s name.

The line rang once, twice, three times before it connected.

“Harper? Honey, what’s going on?” Freya’s voice, usually so calm, was laced with immediate concern.

“Mom,” Harper choked out, the words tumbling together. “It’s Dylan. His hand is really bad. We’re at a hospital, but they won’t treat him. We’ve tried two places already. They all say the same thing. I don’t know what to do.” A sob escaped her.

“Okay, okay, sweetie, take a breath,” Freya said, her own alarm rising. “Which hospital are you at? I’m coming right now.”

“I… I don’t even know the name. I’ll just send you my location,” Harper said, her thumbs slipping on the screen as she shared her GPS pin via a messaging app.

“Got it. I see it. Just stay right there, honey. We’re on our way,” Freya said, her voice firm now, all business.

Hanging up, Freya sprinted from the kitchen, phone in hand, and called up the stairs. “Carter! Carter, get. down here, now! It’s Harper and Dylan. They’re hurt, they’re at the hospital!”

The urgency in her voice brought Carter thundering down the staircase two steps at a time.

“What happened? What did you say about Harper?” he asked, his heart hammering against his ribs. He’d caught the fear in Freya’s tone but not the details.

“They’re both hurt. They’re at a hospital downtown. We have to go, right now,” Freya explained, already shoving her feet into her sneakers by the door.

Carter didn’t ask another question. He just grabbed his keys from the hook, a cold dread settling in his stomach. It felt like one thing after another lately.

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