Chapter 274: Doubt

Chapter 274: Doubt

"How do you expect me to calm down?" Zola spun toward her, eyes bloodshot and wild with grief and madness. "It's not your child who died, so of course you can stay calm! You want me to calm down? My daughter is dead and you're telling me to calm down?!"

Lily froze at the outburst.

Her mouth fell open but no words came out. She could only stand there as Zola shook off her hand and stumbled back two steps, clutching the baby tighter against her chest.

Zola had always been the gentlest person. How could it ever come to this? How could she ever scream at her like that?

But if Lily had gone through the same thing, she would have lost her mind too.

Zola lowered her head, pressing her forehead against the baby's cold little face. Her voice dropped suddenly, dissolving into a broken murmur. "Don't be scared, baby. I'm here. Mommy's right here. They did this to you, and I won't let them get away with it. I'll get justice for you, I promise..."

Her words came in fragments, shifting between accusations and soft whispers to her child, like a string wound too tight, trembling at the edge of snapping.

Then a man burst through the crowd.

Gabriel practically threw himself forward, catching Zola before she could fall, his voice shaking. "Zola! Zola, listen to me. You need to calm down. You're going to hurt yourself—"

Zola thrashed in his arms like a wild animal, kicking and hitting with everything she had. "Don't touch me! Don't touch me! Our daughter is dead! Gabriel, our daughter is dead, do you understand that? Cry! Why aren't you crying? Do you even care? That's your daughter!"

Gabriel didn't argue. He didn't let go. He held her tight, his lips trembling, and finally the tears came. A man in his thirties, standing in a hospital lobby in front of a hundred strangers, crying like a child. He looked at the tiny, bluish infant in his wife's arms, the daughter he never got the chance to hold properly, and a sound tore out of his throat, low and broken, like something had shattered inside his chest and every breath was cutting him from the inside.

"I know," he choked out, barely audible. "Zola, I know. Our daughter is gone. I know..."

Zola went still all at once, as if every last bit of strength had been drained out of her. She leaned against Gabriel, shaking all over, her lips moving in a faint, whimpering sound, thin and fragile as a wounded animal. "Our baby is gone... Gabriel, our baby is gone..."

Gabriel held both her and the child against him, his chin resting on top of her head, tears falling one by one into her tangled hair. He couldn't speak. There were no words. He just held on, as if the warmth of his body could somehow bring back the two people he loved most.

The crowd fell quiet. No one spoke. No one left. Some people's eyes turned red. Others quietly looked away. A young mother standing at the edge of the crowd watched it all unfold and pulled her own baby closer without a word, tears sliding silently down her face.

Lily stood a few steps away, her vision blurred with tears. She watched Zola and Gabriel holding each other, watched that tiny baby who would never open her eyes again, and suddenly the hospital lobby lights felt blindingly white. Mercilessly white. Like the surgical lights in an operating room that illuminate everything but warm nothing.

She wanted to go to them, but felt like she didn't belong. She wanted to leave, but couldn't make herself move. So she just stood there and cried without a sound.

Zola's cries hit her like needles, one after another, driving into her chest.

But Lily knew she couldn't fall apart. If she had nothing left but tears, this whole thing would just sink without a trace.

She stood in the lobby and watched Gabriel slowly help Zola to her feet. She watched a nurse carefully take the still, motionless baby from Zola's arms. She watched Zola's eyes go completely hollow, like something inside her had been entirely emptied out.

The grief was real. But Lily's mind had shifted into something cold and sharp, like a machine running at full speed.

Why did this happen?

She went back through every detail, frame by frame.

The baby was born. Tests showed a heart problem. Surgery was needed. The family signed the consent forms. The surgery was performed. The baby didn't make it.

It sounded like a medical accident. But Conrad's reaction was wrong.

Lily remembered exactly how Conrad had looked walking out of the operating room. That wasn't the expression of a doctor facing a medical mistake.

Not panic. Not guilt. Not even exhaustion. It was alertness.

The kind of alertness that kicks in when someone steps on your tail and you instinctively pull back and bare your teeth.

What was he afraid of?

A thought flashed through Lily's mind, cold enough to make her shudder. What if Cordelia had something they needed? Something more specific — a rare blood type? A tissue match for an organ transplant? Her gaze moved to Conrad, who was a short distance away talking quietly with a nurse. He seemed to be giving instructions, speaking quickly, gesturing a lot. It didn't look like he was handling the aftermath. It looked like he was getting everyone on the same page.

Lily's stomach dropped.

She took a deep breath and walked toward the head nurse who was trying to clear the crowd. Gabriel had just settled Zola into a chair in the hallway and straightened up, his eyes so swollen from crying he could barely open them. Lily glanced back at him, checking whether he could hold it together.

"Charge nurse," Lily said, her voice quiet but every word clear, "we'd like to request the security footage from the doctor's office and the consultation room."

The charge nurse was in the middle of managing the onlookers. She stopped at those words. She turned to look at Lily, a professionally warm expression on her face, but something flickered in her eyes — something Lily caught immediately. Wariness.

"Ma'am, please try to calm down. We can deal with the footage later—"

"I am calm." Lily cut her off, her voice steadier than before. "I'm the family representative of the deceased. I'm formally requesting that the hospital provide access to the security footage. Under the relevant regulations, the patient's family has the right to review surveillance records related to the treatment process. This is a completely reasonable and lawful request."

She looked past the charge nurse, directly at Conrad. Conrad seemed to feel it. His body stiffened slightly, then he turned away as if nothing had happened.

Gabriel walked over and stood beside Lily. His voice was still rough from crying, but his tone was firm. "She's right. The hospital has to have this. I need to see everything that happened from the moment my daughter went into that operating room to the moment she came out. Every single minute."

A crack finally appeared in the charge nurse's composure. She opened her mouth, seemed to weigh her words, and finally said, "Let me check with the administrator," before turning and walking away quickly.

Lily and Gabriel looked at each other. They both knew, without saying a word, that this was far from over.