Chapter 122
Emily took out her phone and dialed a number.
Half an hour later, the doorbell rang.
Emily rushed to open the door. The visitor was a woman in her twenties named Marsha Peterson, Emily's college classmate who had majored in medicine and was now a surgeon.
"Marsha, you're finally here! Come in quick, I need to talk to you."
Emily grabbed Marsha's hand and rushed into the room, locking the door behind them.
When Marsha saw the man lying on the bed covered in blood, she almost screamed.
"What's going on? Who is this guy? Why isn't he at the hospital?"
"Holy shit, he's lost so much blood! Aren't you afraid he's going to die? What are you waiting for? Call an ambulance!"
Marsha reached for her phone, but Emily stopped her.
"We can't take him to the hospital. That's why I called you. Please help me figure out how to save him."
"Can't take him to the hospital?"
Marsha frowned in confusion. "Why can't we take him to the hospital? He's hurt this badly, and the bleeding won't stop. If we don't get him to a hospital, he's really going to die."
"You seem pretty concerned about him. Can you really let him die?"
"Of course I can't."
Emily looked helpless as she said this, wanting to explain but not knowing how.
Even she hadn't fully believed what William had just told her--how could she expect Marsha to believe it?
"Just don't ask so many questions."
Emily gave her a push. "Check his injuries first and see how many wounds he has. If nothing else, stop the bleeding. At least save his life, and we'll figure out the rest later."
Emily was frantic.
William had lost far too much blood. She could smell the strong scent of blood from far away. If they delayed any longer, he really would die.
"I really don't know what to do with you."
Marsha shook her head helplessly, put on a mask and gloves, and walked toward William.
Emily was afraid of getting in the way, so she carefully left the bedroom and went to the living room, sitting down on the soft sofa.
Emily felt deeply unsettled.
Should she believe what William said? It sounded like a dream. Was his uncle really that kind of person?
No matter what, they were family. Could someone really go this far for money and power?
Emily didn't dare jump to conclusions about this. Human nature was the hardest thing to predict.
So many people, for the sake of profit, would betray not just relatives but even their own children. History was full of such examples.
The Brown family was the richest in the city, with more money than they could spend in several lifetimes. If there really was a conflict over interests, that would make sense.
But William had only said it--he hadn't provided any evidence. So Emily didn't know whether to believe him.
Emily kept glancing toward the bedroom, full of worry.
After a sound at the door, someone came out of the second bedroom--it was Amelia.
When she saw Emily sitting in the living room looking distracted, Amelia was surprised.
"Emily, what are you doing out here? Why aren't you in your room? You look so worried. Did something happen?"
"Mom, I'm fine."
Emily forced herself to pull it together. "The room felt stuffy, so I came out to get some air."
"Where's William?"
Amelia looked around. "You went out with him. Where is he?"
Emily's heart jumped, and she quickly said, "He already left."
"He left?"
Amelia frowned, looking disapproving. "Emily, you're not a child anymore. You can't be so stubborn."
"I think he's pretty decent. He probably wouldn't lie about something like this."
"Didn't he take you out? How did your talk go? Did you forgive him?"
"Mom, stop asking so many questions."
Emily's mind was a mess, her emotions all over the place. How could she have time to think about these things? Right now, she just hoped William would be okay.
Amelia had more to say, but Emily quickly got up and pushed her back to her room.
When she returned to the living room, she saw Marsha running out of the bedroom in a panic, her gloved hands smeared with blood.
As soon as she saw Emily, she rushed over and grabbed her, not even taking off her gloves.
"What's wrong?"
Emily's heart jumped. "Is William in bad shape?"
"Call the police right now!" Marsha shook her hand, sweating profusely.
Seeing Emily's confused expression, she leaned close to Emily's ear and whispered a few words.
Emily's heart lurched, her pupils suddenly contracting to pinpoints.
Just after Emily had left, Marsha had unbuttoned William's shirt to see how many wounds there were before deciding what to do.
But she had discovered a bleeding wound on William's abdomen--or more accurately, not a wound but a bloody hole.
"That was a gunshot wound."
Marsha took off her mask, her expression more serious than ever. "How does he have a gunshot wound?"
"I'm guessing he's mixed up with some gang. What kind of decent person would he be? He must have made enemies and came here to hide."
"Don't hesitate--call the police! We're ordinary people--how can we handle this? It's safer to let the police deal with it."
As Marsha spoke, she pushed Emily, her tone very urgent.
Emily was completely stunned.
A gunshot wound? Didn't that prove William was telling the truth?
He really did have an organization, really did run into a gunfight, and got seriously injured because of it--that's why he couldn't make it back when she needed him most.
"What are you standing there for?"
Marsha was very anxious. Seeing Emily's dazed expression made her a bit annoyed.
Emily had been spacey all through college, always drifting off into her own head. She didn't expect her to still be like this so long after graduation.
"Forget it, I'll do it."
Marsha took off her gloves and was about to reach for her phone when Emily suddenly snapped back to reality and grabbed her. "We can't call the police!"
"What did you say?"
Marsha looked shocked and waved her hand in front of Emily's face. "Are you crazy? Or did you not hear what I just said?"
"That's a gunshot wound! If you don't call the police, are you waiting for them to come to you? Or waiting for his enemies to come kill him and take you out too?"
Marsha was furious. "Stop talking nonsense! I'll handle this."
"No! We can't call the police!"
Emily shook her head repeatedly. "Marsha, I trust you, and please trust me too."
"He's not the kind of person you think he is. There's more to this story, but I can't explain it all right now. Can you please help me save him?"
"How am I supposed to save him?"