Chapter 79 Up To Fate
It wasn't up to find hours after the whole mess before Richard, Amelia and old man Edward flooded the hospital to see the situation for themselves.
News of Famous billionaire Playboy Derek Hemsworth being shot had gone viral even before they arrived the hospital.
Edward had arrived at the hospital in a state of panic, his usually composed demeanor shattered. His tie was undone, his hands trembling as he demanded answers from anyone who would listen.
“Where is my grandson and grand daughter in-law?” Edward demanded immediately one of the nurses stepped out of the emergency room where they'd been attending to Derek.
The nurse looked at him and though she'd wanted to lie, ahe knew better than to do that. “Right now, I can't say anything. Both Derek and Rebecca is still unconscious....”
"What? My grandson. I— I can’t," the old man gasped before the doctor could finish.
"Mr. Hemsworth," both Richard and Amelia shouted at the same time, as they rushed over to where he was. Richard caught him just before he collapsed.
Doctors rushed him in immediately, placing him on a stretcher and wheeling him away at full speed.
"Cardiac episode," someone said.
Richard stood frozen, his hands trembling while Amelia looked on, wondering why everything was happening all at once. She hoped that nothing would happen to the old man, otherwise, it would be hard for Rebecca since Derek would be focused on his grandfather.
Just as she thought that, another thought, though uninviting, crossed her mind.
What if Rebecca never wakes up? What if something had happened to her in the fire?
No! She shook her head, telling herself nothing could ever happen to her friend. Both thinking of the pain Rebecca might've passed through in Vanessa's hands, tears flowed down freely from her eyes.
Amelia sat on one of the hard plastic chairs, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. She hadn’t realized she was shaking until her fingers started to ache from how tightly she held them together. Her eyes were red and swollen, her face pale.
"This is my fault," she whispered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear.
"Maybe if I had pushed harder… if I had told Derek everything sooner even when she told me not to… if I had stopped Vanessa when I first sensed something was wrong," she continued, her voice cracking. "Rebecca wouldn’t be in there fighting for her life."
She squeezed her eyes shut, tears spilling over.
"I knew she was dangerous. I knew it." She kept whispering, as her mind went through times she had warned Rebecca about Vanessa.
If only she had stepped up, but no she had decided to do what she did when she also told her about Liam. Step back and let her do what she wanted, now look where it had gotten them.
Richard stood a few steps away, leaning against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. He hadn’t sat down since he arrived.
His back was straight, but his shoulders sagged under an invisible weight. His gaze was fixed on the double doors of the emergency room, as if staring hard enough might force them to open.
He didn’t respond to Amelia right away, even when he heard her whispering.
Instead, his mind drifted backward, years into the past and he wished he'd done something when Rebecca and Vanessa seemed to be fighting.
Rebecca’s voice echoed in his head, clear and sharp especially since that morning after she lost her parents.
He'd thought Rebecca had just been too emotional and had needed time. Little did he knew there was a real dangerous war he would've been able to stop if only he'd taken his role seriously.
Richard swallowed hard.
How many times had Rebecca tried to warn them?
How many times had she looked uncomfortable, tense, quietly mad, and he had chosen peace over truth?
His thoughts shifted to his late brother.
'Did we do wrong?' he wondered bitterly. 'Did we fail her?'
They had believed love could fix everything. That if they loved Vanessa enough, shielded her enough, treated her like their own, she would rise above her father’s cruelty and greed. They had convinced themselves that blood did not define destiny.
But how wrong had they been. In Vanessa's case, blood, resentment, and jealousy had proved stronger than kindness.
Doctors and nurses moved in and out of the emergency room doors, their faces professional and guarded. Each time the doors opened, Amelia’s heart leapt violently in her chest, only to sink again when they passed by without stopping.
Minutes turned into an hour.
Then another.
No one told them anything.
The waiting was torture.
Most times, Amelia would stand up, pace a few steps then sit down again. She couldn’t stay still. Every second felt like a countdown to something terrible. Her thoughts spiraled relentlessly.
'What if Rebecca doesn’t wake up?'
'What if Derek dies?'
'What if the fire damaged her lungs beyond repair?'
She pressed a hand to her chest, struggling to breathe past the panic rising inside her, as she banished that thought from her head immediately.
Richard checked the clock on the wall again. He had checked it so many times that the numbers blurred together. It felt wrong that the world outside this hospital continued to move, cars driving, people laughing, life continuing, while theirs had been shattered in a single night.
Finally, after what felt like forever, the emergency room doors opened again and two doctors stepped out.
Amelia and Richard were on their feet instantly.
Their hearts pounded as they rushed forward.
"How are they?" Amelia asked breathlessly. "Please, tell us how they are?"
"Let me start with Mr. Hemsworth," he said.
Amelia’s hands clenched together.
"He sustained a gunshot wound to the chest," the doctor continued. "Fortunately, the bullet entered from the right side and narrowly missed vital organs. He lost a significant amount of blood, but we were able to stop the bleeding and stabilize him."
Richard let out a shaky breath of relief.
"He’s unconscious right now," the doctor added, "but that’s expected. He should wake up once the anesthesia wears off."
Relief washed through Amelia so suddenly that her knees nearly buckled.
"Thank God," she whispered, tears spilling freely again.
Richard nodded slowly, his shoulders sagging just a little as some of the tension released.
"And Rebecca?" Amelia asked, her voice trembling. "How is she?"
The doctor hesitated.
That pause felt heavier than any words. Amelia's heart throbbed loud, she feared the doctor might hear it.
“How’s she?” Amelia asked this time, her hands shaking.
The doctor sighed. "She's not awake hm yet and honestly, we've done all we can but there's nothing I can guarantee you now. Her condition is critical."
Amelia’s breath caught painfully in her chest and for a second, Richard felt the world around him spin.
“Critical? What does that mean? What are you trying to say?” Richard asked quickly.
"She suffered physical trauma," he explained, "and significant smoke inhalation. Her lungs were exposed to a large amount of smoke and toxic fumes. We’ve placed her on oxygen and administered medication to help her breathe and reduce inflammation...."
"But…?" Richard asked quietly, he knew there was a condition, the doctor's tone indicated that.
"But at this point," the doctor continued, "we’ve done everything we can medically. The rest depends on how her body responds."
Amelia’s hands flew to her mouth as a sob escaped her.
"So you're indirectly sayin it’s.... up to fate now?" she asked brokenly.
The doctor nodded. "Yes."
Silence followed.
A suffocating, devastating silence.
Then Amelia’s eyes widened suddenly as another thought struck her, something she should have asked first.
"The baby," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "What about the baby?"