Chapter 125
Chapter 125
Brandon's pupils contracted sharply. There was no time to think.
His body moved faster than his mind—he lunged forward and shoved Scarlett hard out of the way.
"BANG—!"
A deafening crash.
Brandon was sent flying by the impact, his body tracing an arc through the air before slamming down hard onto the cold asphalt.
The sedan crashed into a fire hydrant on the curb and stalled completely.
Scarlett landed on the grass several feet away, her palms scraped raw. She froze for a second, then whipped her head around.
Brandon lay in a pool of blood, eyes shut tight. Blood poured from his forehead down his chiseled face, staining his white shirt crimson.
"Brandon!"
Scarlett's mind went blank.
She scrambled toward him on her hands and knees and collapsed beside him.
No matter how much she hated him, she'd never wanted him dead.
"Brandon, wake up!" Her hands shook violently as she pressed them against the bleeding wound on his head. She turned and screamed at the bystanders, "Call an ambulance! Someone call an ambulance!"
Haven Healthcare Hospital, Emergency Room.
Scarlett stood in the corridor, her coat covered in Brandon's blood.
Her hands were still trembling slightly. Her expression was unreadable.
Half an hour later, the ER doors swung open.
The doctor pulled down his mask, his tone lighter now. "No internal organ damage. Mostly mild concussion and multiple soft tissue contusions. We've sutured the head wound. The patient is still unconscious and will need to be hospitalized for observation."
The tension in Scarlett's body finally eased. She leaned against the wall and let out a long, shaky breath.
At least he wasn't dead.
He didn't owe her his life anymore. And she didn't want to owe him hers.
Hurried footsteps echoed down the hallway.
Lucas had gotten the news and rushed over in a frenzy.
He took in Scarlett, covered in blood, then glanced through the window at Brandon hooked up to monitors. His face darkened instantly.
"Scarlett." Lucas strode up to her, brows furrowed, his voice tight with frustration and blame. "Brandon almost died for you. How much longer are you going to torture him?"
Scarlett lifted her head and met his gaze calmly.
"Didn't he bring this on himself?" Her voice was hoarse but unyielding. "He saved me, and I'm grateful. I'll cover the medical bills. I'll hire the nurses."
She paused, her tone resolute. "But if you think he can use this to guilt me into coming back, you can tell him he's dreaming."
Lucas was rendered speechless.
He stared at her cold, hardened profile and suddenly realized—this Scarlett, once gentle and compliant, had truly been pushed into becoming something unfeeling. A stone.
In the corridor,
the moment Lucas finished speaking, the elevator dinged open.
Sophia emerged, leaning on her cane, supported by the butler. She moved quickly despite the cane.
Hearing Lucas's blunt accusation, Sophia's face turned ashen.
She walked right up to Lucas and, without a word, raised her cane and struck him hard across the shin.
"You little fool! What gives you the right to blame Lettie?" Sophia's voice thundered as she slammed her cane against the floor. "Brandon made his own mess. He can clean it up. This is what he owes Lettie! Who gave you permission to raise your voice at her?"
Lucas winced and grunted in pain but didn't dare talk back. He clenched his jaw and stepped aside.
Sophia turned to look at Scarlett, who was leaning against the wall, her coat still stained with large patches of blood.
The sharpness in Sophia's eyes melted into tenderness and heartache. She stepped forward and took Scarlett's cold, trembling hand in hers.
"Sweet girl, don't listen to his nonsense." Sophia's voice softened as she patted the back of Scarlett's hand. "Brandon pushed you out of the way because he wanted to. The Robinson family will never use this to manipulate you. Don't be afraid. I'm here."
Scarlett stood there quietly, her clear eyes drifting through the glass window toward Brandon, who lay in the hospital bed with an oxygen mask over his face.
Her expression was distant.
Even now, she couldn't believe Brandon would risk his life to protect her.
That cold, domineering man—the one who'd pushed her to the brink for Elizabeth's sake, who'd stood by and watched her lose their child—how could he have thrown himself in front of a car without a second thought?
It didn't make sense.
Human instinct was to protect oneself. And in that split second before the car hit, Brandon hadn't had time to think.
He'd acted on pure instinct.
Scarlett's chest tightened, as if a thin steel wire had wrapped around her heart and was slowly cutting off her air.
Just then, a shrill alarm blared from inside the hospital room.
The monitors displaying heart rate and blood pressure went haywire, numbers spiking erratically. Red warning lights flashed.
"Doctor! Get the doctor!" a nurse shouted.
Several ER specialists rushed into the room and pulled the blinds shut, cutting off all view from outside.
The atmosphere in the hallway plummeted.
Scarlett stood outside the door, her hands gripping the hem of her coat so tightly her knuckles turned white. She waited, heart pounding.
Time crawled. Every second stretched endlessly.
Fifteen minutes later, the attending physician pushed through the door, his face grim.
"Mrs. Sophia Robinson. Ms. White." The doctor pulled down his mask, his tone urgent. "The situation is critical. The patient is experiencing delayed intracranial hemorrhaging. The hematoma is expanding rapidly and compressing the brainstem. It's extremely dangerous—he could suffer brain death at any moment. We need to perform cranial surgery immediately."
The word 'critical' hit Scarlett like a sledgehammer to the skull.
She watched the doctor's lips move, but all she could hear was a high-pitched ringing in her ears.
Days of mental strain, the physical toll of the anticoagulants, and now this sudden shock—it all drained the last bit of strength from her body.
Her vision went black. Scarlett's body went limp and she collapsed.
"Lettie!"
When she opened her eyes again, the sharp smell of disinfectant filled her nose.
Scarlett lay in another VIP room at Haven Healthcare Hospital. An IV needle was taped to the back of her hand, cold liquid dripping steadily into her vein.
She turned her head and saw Sophia sitting beside the bed.
Sophia's usually immaculate silver hair was disheveled. She looked exhausted, as if she'd aged ten years in just a few hours.
"Lettie, you're awake." Sophia leaned forward the moment she opened her eyes and grasped her free hand.
"Grandma…" Scarlett's voice was hoarse. She struggled to sit up.
"Don't move. Lie still." Sophia pressed gently on her shoulder, her voice full of concern. "The doctor said you fainted from low blood sugar and exhaustion. You're in terrible shape. You need to take care of yourself. If Brandon wakes up and sees you like this, he'll be heartbroken."
Scarlett's pale lips curved into a bitter smile. She found it almost laughable.
Heartbroken? His heart belonged to Elizabeth. When had he ever cared whether she lived or died?