Chapter 7 She couldn't go on like this!

Lydia's face was pale, but she couldn't hide the glee in her eyes.

Her lips curled into a faint, smug smile.

Seeing Wendy, she deliberately coughed a few times, pretending to be weak. "Well, if it isn't Ms. Knight. What took you so long? Your grandma was just so agitated."

She placed a hand on her chest, feigning sympathy for what had just happened.

Wendy's eyes reddened, staring at Lydia in disbelief.

She rushed forward, grabbing Lydia's arm, and shouted angrily, "Lydia, what the hell happened? Why did my grandma have a stroke? What did you do?"

Lydia remained calm, even in the face of Wendy's fury.

"Ms. Knight, let go of me. Don't forget, I'm a patient right now! I advise you not to be so rough, or Ethan might blame you if something goes wrong."

Wendy tightened her grip instead. "Cut the crap! You better tell me the truth right now!"

She glared into Lydia's eyes, like a wild beast on the brink of madness, exuding a murderous intent.

Lydia knew Wendy was all bark and no bite, so she wasn't afraid.

Just as she was about to mock Wendy further, she caught sight of Ethan approaching quickly. A glint of cunning flashed in her eyes.

Instead of pushing Wendy away, she pretended to be shoved hard by Wendy.

She and her wheelchair toppled over with a loud crash, landing on the floor in a pitiful heap.

Ethan saw this and was instantly furious, veins bulging on his forehead.

He rushed forward and, without hesitation, slapped Wendy hard across the face, leaving a red, swollen handprint.

Ethan's handsome face twisted in anger. "How could you be so cruel! She's just been in a car accident, and you still hurt her!"

Wendy's head buzzed from the sudden slap, her ears ringing.

Tears streamed down her face, her heart filled with unbearable grievance and anger.

Wendy, eyes bloodshot, screamed, "It was her! Lydia made Grandma so angry she had a stroke! Grandma is still in the ER!"

She pointed towards the emergency room, her hand trembling with emotion.

Lydia feigned terror, shrinking back with red-rimmed eyes.

Her voice trembled with fake sobs. "I just heard Wendy's grandma was hospitalized too, so I came to visit out of kindness. Who knew she'd have a stroke right when I arrived? I feel terrible about it."

She wiped away nonexistent tears from the corners of her eyes.

Ethan, seeing Lydia's pitiful state, turned to Wendy with disgust and contempt. "You didn't take good care of your grandma, and now that something has happened, all you do is shift the blame onto others!"

He ignored Wendy's heartbroken expression, bent down to pick up Lydia, and carried her away like she was a precious treasure, leaving everyone watching in shock.

Wendy stood there, alone and helpless, tears falling like broken pearls.

She watched Ethan and Lydia leave, hatred growing like wild weeds in her heart.

The flashing red light of the emergency room remained glaring, as if mocking her helplessness.

She slowly crouched down, using tissues to wipe away the spilled soup and meat, trying to steady her trembling body as she sat by the operating room door.

She hugged her knees and cried, tears falling onto the cold, rough tiles, shattering into tiny, glistening beads.

At that moment, she hated Lydia, but she hated herself even more. If she hadn't been so foolish, blinded by love, and lost herself, none of this would have happened.

During those agonizing hours, the red light outside the emergency room like a blade hanging over Wendy's heart.

Every minute felt like an eternity. She paced the hallway, heart racing, praying for Margaret's safety.

Finally, the red light went out. Wendy rushed forward, looking at the doctor with trembling lips, unable to speak.

The doctor, tired but somewhat relieved, said, "Don't worry, your grandma is out of danger."

Wendy's tense heart finally eased a bit.

But before she could fully relax, the doctor added, "However, due to high intracranial pressure, Margaret might be paralyzed on one side. We'll need to observe her after she wakes up to be sure."

Hearing this, Wendy felt like she had fallen into an icy abyss.

Paralyzed.

Margaret, so strong and dignified, how could she bear being bedridden?

Thinking of this, Wendy nearly fainted.

The medical staff quickly supported her, taking her and Margaret to a room to rest.

Looking at Margaret's familiar yet increasingly aged face, the marks of time seemed deeper and heavier. Wendy's eyes reddened.

Slowly, Wendy reached out, holding Margaret's rough hand. Once, these hands were so warm and strong. After her parents and Billy died, they shielded her from the storm. Now, they lay weakly by the bed.

Wendy's heart ached, tears flowing like a flood.

She whispered, "I'm sorry, Grandma. It's my fault."

It was her own foolishness, her blind belief in eternal love.

Not only had she brought herself to this miserable state, but she had also caused Margaret to suffer such a blow at her age!

If Margaret found out about her cancer, how could she bear it?

Wendy placed her face on Margaret's hand, feeling the warmth, and a deep regret surged in her heart.

It was all her fault! She couldn't go on like this!

She couldn't continue to be lost in the illusion of a love that had long disappeared, failing Margaret's expectations, harming herself and others!

She had to pull herself together, get well, and return to her job as a doctor.

She had to become the best doctor, to prove herself to everyone who looked down on her.

That night, Wendy stayed by Margaret's bedside.

From 3 AM to 6 AM, she didn't sleep.

When breakfast time arrived, Wendy gathered her things and went to the cafeteria to get food for Margaret.

She bought some bread and oatmeal, carrying the tray back to the room.

Passing through the garden, she overheard a conversation.

"Did you hear? Alexander Turner, the CEO of the Turner Group, is in the hospital!"

"What? You mean the legendary Alexander? The richest man in Ashtonbury?"

"Yes! I was on duty last night and saw him come out of the elevator. He's even more handsome than on magazine covers!"

"Really? Why is he here? Is he sick?"

"Probably not. I heard his brother had an accident and damaged his cornea, so he's been here almost every day."

"That's a shame. Mr. Turner's brother is so talented."

Wendy stopped in her tracks, stunned.

Harold was a titan in the field of ophthalmology. If he could help, maybe there's a chance for a cure.