Chapter 566 - 562: Vivid

The emergency room at night was filled with patients suffering from sudden medical crises. When a pregnant woman was wheeled in, everyone instantly perked up, craning their necks to watch.

"Oh my, she’s hemorrhaging!"

"The sheet under her is completely red!"

Jasmine Sterling didn’t join the onlookers, but as a woman herself, hearing what the doctors had been shouting made her heart ache for the patient.

Cecilia Sterling’s head was cloudy from the fever, and she could barely keep her eyes open. She leaned against her mother’s shoulder and fell asleep within moments.

She slept fitfully for an unknown amount of time, only slowly opening her eyes when she heard her mother’s gentle voice in her ear.

A young nurse at her side had already removed the IV needle. Jasmine Sterling, her eyes filled with heartache, stroked her daughter’s face and said, "We’re all done. Let’s go home and get some rest."

Cecilia Sterling nodded lightly. Her mind had cleared a bit, and she noticed she had sweated a lot.

Letting her mother help her up, they walked toward the elevator. Cecilia glanced at the time—it was almost four in the morning.

"The IV drip took over two hours?" Cecilia asked softly.

"It did. Are you feeling any better?"

Cecilia nodded, not wanting her mother to worry. "Much better. I guess I’ve just been too hard on myself lately."

’The main issue was probably the alcohol,’ she thought, suddenly recalling how her regular-sized pants had started feeling tight.

Jasmine Sterling knew her daughter was conscious of her appearance and strict about her figure, so she didn’t blame her. Instead, she advised her gently, "You have to be moderate with your diet. The doctor said cutting out carbs, oil, and salt so suddenly put too much stress on your body."

Cecilia Sterling nodded obediently. ’No wonder. She usually had great energy, but yesterday at noon, she’d only eaten some braised pork and a bowl of rice because she was feeling down, and that afternoon, the carb crash had made her so dizzy.’

Just as the two were waiting for the elevator, a scene unfolded at the end of the hallway. Outside the trauma room, a young nurse held out a document, anxiously urging the family members to sign.

"You need to sign this quickly! The patient’s condition is critical, she can’t wait any longer."

The patient’s husband held the pen, his hand trembling, but an old man beside him stopped him. "No! If her uterus is removed, she’ll be nothing but a barren hen! This baby is a girl, which means our family line will end!"

The nurse’s face flushed with anger. "How can you think like that? Her life is in danger, and the hysterectomy is necessary to save her! She’s lying in there right now, waiting for you to sign so we can save her!"

The young nurse had barely finished speaking when the door to the trauma room was suddenly pushed open, and Emeric Grant walked out, his expression grim. "What’s going on?"

"Dr. Grant," the young nurse said quickly, "the family won’t sign because the baby is a girl! They’re refusing to consent to the hysterectomy!"

Upon hearing this, Emeric Grant’s sharp gaze shot toward the patient’s husband. He rebuked him in a low, stern voice, "The patient is hemorrhaging. Her uterus isn’t contracting effectively to stop the bleeding. We’ve tried medication, uterine packing, and sutures—nothing has worked. A hysterectomy is the only way to save her life. She’s about to die, and you’re still thinking about having a son? Your family is committing murder, do you understand that!"

The barely suppressed rage in his demeanor was incredibly intimidating, and his final words made the husband flinch in terror.

Then, with a grave expression, Emeric Grant commanded, "Sign it now. Saving her life is the most important thing. If your family is that desperate for a son, then wait for her to survive, get a divorce, and marry someone else. But right now, you will sign this paper for me. Immediately!"

After saying this, Emeric Grant turned and went back into the trauma room.

"Dr. Grant!"

Inside the trauma room, the other staff exchanged glances upon seeing the fury on his face. Dr. Grant was known for being calm and restrained; few had ever seen him lose his temper.

They were all experienced enough to guess why the signed consent form was taking so long.

But Emeric Grant forced himself to calm down within three seconds. "Move the infant to the observation unit. We’re performing the hysterectomy now."

"Dr. Grant, the family hasn’t..." a nurse at his side reminded him instinctively.

Emeric Grant was already standing by the hospital bed. He replied without looking up, "We can’t wait. If anything happens, I’ll take responsibility!"

Cecilia Sterling saw the whole scene unfold from a distance. It was the first time she had seen such a vivid expression on Dr. Grant’s face. His entire being radiated a cold, powerful intensity.

’Attractive.’

Jasmine Sterling sighed emotionally. "Childbirth is already a living hell for a woman. To end up with in-laws like that makes the suffering pointless."

Cecilia Sterling sighed helplessly and linked her arm with her mother’s as they entered the elevator.

Cecilia Sterling slept straight through until one in the afternoon. The cold sweat from her fever had soaked her sheets, but it felt as if the sickness had been purged from her body, leaving her feeling much lighter.

She took a quick shower and went downstairs, surprised to find Ethan at home.

"Eh?" Cecilia said, startled. "What are you doing back?"

"Sis, you’re awake?" Ethan got up from the sofa and came over. "Mom had to go to the office for something. She was worried about you being sick and home alone, so she called me back."

"Are you feeling any better?"

Cecilia nodded. "Much better."

"Then I’ll get you something to eat. Mom made it for you at lunch and said you should eat it when you woke up. She also told me I have to take you back to the hospital this afternoon for another IV drip, just to make sure you’re fully recovered."

With that, Ethan went into the kitchen. He came out a moment later carrying a bowl of fish maw chicken soup. "This smells amazing. I’m having a bowl, too."

Cecilia smiled. She was genuinely hungry after being sick all night, so she opened WhatsApp to check her messages as she ate her soup.

There were already hundreds of messages in the school team’s group chat, many of them tagging her directly.

"Cecilia, did you see the messages?"

"Four o’clock this afternoon at the usual spot. Elias is going to go over those six problems from yesterday and analyze the question types. Don’t be late!"

"Why aren’t you replying?"

"..."

It was mostly Yates Sanders who had tagged her. Cecilia skimmed the messages; it was mostly idle chatter with nothing particularly important.

So she sent back a casual reply: "Just woke up. I had a bit of a fever last night and had to go to the hospital for an IV, so I probably can’t make it this afternoon."

Yates Sanders was the first to reply. "What? Are you okay? Is it serious?"

"If you’re sick, just focus on resting. I’ll take good notes and lend them to you. It’s no problem."

Many more messages followed, but Cecilia couldn’t be bothered to read them, let alone reply. She just locked her phone.

"Sis, how are things going with Wyatt Sherman?" Ethan suddenly looked up at his sister, spoon in hand, a gossipy look on his face. "What if I tell him you’re sick? Maybe he’ll come take care of you."

"How thoughtful of you," Cecilia scoffed. "But it’s over between us."

"Huh?"

A smile touched Cecilia’s lips as she twisted the knife. "Just like your first love. It died a quiet death."

Ethan: "..."