Chapter 185
Valencia's face went deathly pale. She shot to her feet. "Mom! Mom, what's wrong? Doctor! Get the doctor!"
The old woman on the bed suddenly convulsed violently. Her face shifted from pale to a dusky blue-purple in seconds.
Her fingers clenched the sheets spasmodically. Her body arched, then collapsed back down.
The on-call doctor burst into the room, two nurses right behind him. One pushed a defibrillator. The other held an oxygen tube.
The doctor glanced at the monitor, and his expression changed instantly. "Respiratory failure! Prep the defibrillator! Set voltage to two hundred joules—"
"Wait." Lucinda's voice cut through the chaos, silencing the room. "Don't touch her!"
The doctor's hand was already on the defibrillator paddle. Hearing her voice, he froze mid-motion and turned to look at her, hesitant. "But the patient's condition is critical!"
"Give me twenty seconds." Lucinda didn't look at him. She was already bending down, pulling a small foil packet from the inside pocket of her jacket.
Valencia stood nearby, hand over her mouth, eyes already red.
She watched her daughter's movements, wanting to stop her but not daring to make a sound.
Wesley stepped closer too, brow furrowed, staring at the old woman on the bed, anxiety flooding his eyes.
Manuel stood half a step behind Lucinda. He said nothing, but his gaze never left his sister's hands.
Dahlia stood at the foot of the bed, watching the scene unfold. Her heartbeat suddenly quickened.
She watched the foil packet in Lucinda's hand. Watched Lucinda lean down to bring something to Grandma's lips. Her lips nearly curled upward—she could barely suppress it.
Go ahead. Give it to her.
If something happened after she swallowed it, then Lucinda would have killed Grandma with her own hands.
No matter how much Valencia favored her, she couldn't possibly forgive someone who killed her own mother.
At the thought, Dahlia's breathing quickened slightly. The gleam in her eyes—barely restrained—was threatening to spill over.
"Lucinda—" She took half a step forward, her voice pitched just right with concern. "Grandma's in such bad shape right now. Maybe we should let the doctor handle it. What if… what if something goes wrong—"
"Shut up." Lucinda didn't even turn around.
Dahlia's words cut off abruptly. Her lips were still parted slightly, as if someone had grabbed her by the throat.
Lucinda had already opened the foil packet. Inside was a pale brown pill.
Her fingers were steady. She lifted Grandma's chin, placed the pill inside, then gently pressed upward on the old woman's jaw with her palm, guiding the pill down her throat.
Then she let go, lifted the corner of the blanket, slipped her hand underneath, and began massaging Grandma's chest.
Her movements were practiced, as if she'd done this a thousand times before.
After that, she placed her palm flat against the sternum and began tracing slow, deliberate circles. The pressure was even and sustained.
The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Watching Lucinda's technique, the doctor stood frozen in place.
This… this method—he'd been a doctor for thirty years, and he'd only ever seen it in the highest-level medical texts at the hospital!
Even the most elite international physicians might not be able to perform it. How could this girl, who looked barely twenty, know how to do this?
The alarm on the monitor was still blaring. The heart rate line was still jumping erratically. But Lucinda's hands didn't stop.
Ten seconds. Twenty seconds. Thirty seconds…
And then—
The chaotic heart rate line on the screen began to smooth out, as if an invisible hand were calming it down.
The fluctuations shrank. The numbers dropped from over a hundred thirty, bit by bit—down to a hundred ten, down to ninety, down to seventy-five.
The blood pressure readings began to climb back up, inching away from the danger zone and settling back into a stable range.
Orla's chest rose and fell with renewed steadiness. The blue-purple tint on her face began to fade.
Lucinda's hand remained on her chest, continuing the motion for another ten seconds or so. Only when all the readings on the monitor had stabilized did she slowly withdraw her hand and straighten up.
The room was deathly silent.
The on-call doctor was still frozen in his defibrillator stance. He stared at the monitor, disbelief written all over his face.
The nurse beside him was still holding the oxygen tube mid-air, too stunned to move.
The doctor finally snapped out of it. He let out a long breath, pushed the defibrillator aside, and hurried to the bedside to check everything.
After confirming that all was well, he turned to look at Lucinda. This time, there was something different in his gaze.
"The patient's breathing has completely recovered. Oxygen levels are rising. The rales in her chest are gone."
His eyes practically glowed with awe, his voice unable to contain his amazement. "In a situation like that, standard emergency procedures would take at least two to three minutes to stabilize her. That pill you gave her… how did it work so fast?"
Lucinda didn't answer. She simply reached out to check Orla's forehead temperature. Once she confirmed there was no fever, she withdrew her hand, her tone calm. "She's fine now. Just continue with the original treatment plan. Don't worry. It won't be long before Grandma wakes up."
Valencia couldn't hold it in any longer. Tears streamed down her face.
She threw her arms around Lucinda, burying her face in her shoulder, her voice trembling.
"Cindy… Cindy, you scared me to death… If something had happened to your grandmother, I really…" She couldn't finish. Her arms tightened around her daughter.
Lucinda stood there, a little unused to the embrace, but she still lifted her hand and gently patted Valencia's back. "Mom, it's okay now."
Manuel stood nearby, watching the scene. The anxiety in his eyes finally dissipated completely.
He reached out and patted Valencia's shoulder, his voice soft. "Mom, Cindy already saved Grandma. Don't cry. Cindy's our lucky star. With her here, Grandma will be fine."
Dahlia stood at the foot of the bed. That tense expression was still plastered on her face, but the gleam in her eyes—the one she hadn't had time to hide—shattered into nothing.
She looked at Lucinda, held in Valencia's arms, and the hatred in her eyes nearly spilled over.
Why?
Why could she bring her back even from that?
When Lucinda pulled out that pill from her jacket, Dahlia thought she'd finally get to watch her crash and burn.
But what happened instead?
Not only did nothing go wrong—she'd scored another win!
Grandma was fine. Valencia was crying in her arms. Manuel was calling her their lucky star.
And she stood there like some irrelevant bystander, unable to get a word in edgewise.
She took a deep breath, shoved down the roiling emotions, and forced out a smile.
"Lucinda, you're amazing. If it weren't for you, Grandma today would probably have…"
She paused, as if suddenly remembering something. Her brow furrowed slightly.
"But Lucinda… Grandma was doing fine earlier. Why did she suddenly have an episode? Before you came, the doctor said her condition was stable. Did you say something to Grandma just now? Did you upset her?"
She said it lightly, as if just asking casually. But every word was aimed precisely in one direction.
If Orla's sudden crisis had anything to do with Lucinda's visit, then she had triggered it. The responsibility was hers—not the fact that she'd saved her.