Chapter 26 Sloane Must Be Okay!
Sloane's POV
The crushing pain in my bones made me let out a piercing scream, and everything went black before my eyes.
My hand!
I'm a surgeon. These hands are my livelihood, the foundation of everything I've achieved.
If they're ruined, my life is over.
Overwhelming panic gripped my heart like an icy hand, making it almost impossible to breathe.
I didn't care about the chaos around me or whether the robber was still there. I just trembled as I pulled out my phone from my pocket.
The screen was smeared with blood and slippery. It took several tries to unlock it, my fingertips shaking so badly from fear that I couldn't even hit the right buttons.
"Hello, 911? Walmart supermarket, there's a robbery, I... my hand is injured, there's a lot of blood, I need an ambulance, hurry!"
My voice was broken, filled with uncontrollable sobs and trembling, completely incoherent.
Time became a blur. I was fading fast, blood loss and panic making me dizzy, when the distant wail of sirens cut through the chaos—growing louder, closer.
I was carefully lifted onto a stretcher by paramedics and taken to the nearest hospital.
It happened to be the hospital where Lila worked.
As I was wheeled into the emergency room, I immediately saw Lila rushing over.
She was wearing her white coat, her face unusually grave.
"Sloane!" She hurried alongside the gurney, and when she saw my mangled right hand, her face went pale.
"My hand, Lila, my hand..." I grabbed her sleeve desperately, like clutching a last lifeline, tears streaming down my face. "You have to save my hand. I can't lose it! I still need to do surgery, Lila, please save me!"
I completely broke down. All my composure and rationality crumbled in the face of this career-threatening injury.
I was just an ordinary person, terrified of losing my future.
"Don't be scared, Sloane, don't be scared. I'm here," Lila said, gripping my cold left hand, her voice steady, trying to calm me. "I've already arranged for the best hand surgeon. You're going to be okay."
As she spoke, she signaled a nurse to give me a sedative, then stepped aside and pulled out her phone, quickly dialing a number.
Through my hazy consciousness, I vaguely heard her say into the phone with unprecedented seriousness. "Jared, get to Central Hospital right now. Sloane's been in an accident."
Jared.
That name pricked my confused mind.
I don't know how much time passed before the emergency room door was violently pushed open from outside, and a powerful, familiar cold presence swept in.
Jared had arrived.
He was still wearing that well-tailored black suit, walking quickly, sweat on his forehead—clearly he'd rushed over. When his eyes fell on my right hand, soaked in blood and wrapped in temporary gauze, the pressure around him dropped to freezing.
In those unfathomable dark eyes, a storm of rage surged, as if ready to destroy everything.
He strode to my bedside in a few steps, his tall figure looming over me with suffocating pressure.
He wanted to touch my injured hand but stopped mid-air, his strong hand actually trembling slightly.
"How did this happen?" His voice was terribly hoarse, each word seeming to be squeezed through clenched teeth, carrying a bloodthirsty violence.
Before Lila could answer, he turned to his assistant who had followed him in and issued a cold command. "Go investigate. Pull every frame of footage from that supermarket. I don't care who it was—whoever hurt her, I want them to suffer."
The ruthlessness in his tone seemed to freeze the air in the entire emergency room.
"Sloane!"
The emergency room door was suddenly pushed open again. David, wearing his white coat, had clearly just rushed over from his department. Seeing my pale face and injured hand, his face was full of anxiety and concern.
His gaze swept between me and Jared, then settled on Jared with a hint of confusion, but he still greeted him politely. "Sloane's brother? You're here too. How is Sloane?"
The word "brother" made Jared's expression darken even more.
He gave David a cold glance, too lazy to acknowledge the title, his gaze returning to me, the heartache and fear in his eyes almost drowning me.
But I couldn't care about the tension between them. I just clutched Lila's hand, crying and pleading. "Lila, surgery, please arrange surgery for me. My hand can't be ruined..."
"Don't be scared, Sloane. Let me take a look first." David immediately went into professional mode. He put on sterile gloves and carefully lifted my right hand to begin a preliminary examination.
His movements were gentle, his voice carrying a calming power. "The wound is deep, but the location is okay. It didn't directly damage the median nerve or major blood vessels. Try to move your fingers."
Through my tears, I followed his instructions, trembling as I tried to move my fingertips.
Though the pain was excruciating, my fingertips could still make slight bending movements.