Chapter 83

To Lucinda, it was obvious. Lydia was stalling on purpose, making sure Grandpa would miss his best shot at getting help.
Kylie understood why Lucinda was so anxious, but she could hear the confidence in Lydia’s voice. Lydia wasn’t just hopeful, she was certain.
“Lucinda, we all know how important time is right now. But those top specialists already gave us a critical warning. Don’t you see what that means? Even they aren’t sure they can save him.”
Lucinda’s eyes were red and swollen, her hands clenched so tight her nails pressed deep into her palms. “So what, you think Lydia can do what they can’t? That she’s the only one who can pull Grandpa back from the edge?”
If Lydia showed up and couldn’t save him, she would be the reason they lost their last chance.
Cameron stepped in gently. “Lucinda, no one’s saying Lydia can guarantee anything. But we trust she has a way to help Grandpa. Maybe more than anyone else right now.”
Fresh tears spilled down Lucinda’s face. She looked so lost, so heartbroken. “Fine. If you all have that much faith in Lydia and not the experts, there’s nothing I can say. But Grandpa he must be in so much pain. So scared.”
She covered her mouth, crouched down, and tried to muffle her sobs, shoulders shaking as she cried.
Inside the operating room, the tension was just as thick. Lydia’s request had everyone on edge.
“No surgery? The patient could crash at any second. Why are we stopping now?”
“Exactly. If we don’t clear his arteries and get his heart pumping again, he might not make it.”
“The family said to wait, so we wait.” Dr. Hady, dressed in sterile scrubs, stepped down from the operating platform and glanced at the clock.
12:05.
If whoever they were waiting for didn’t get there by 12:15, there might not be anything left to save.
One of the assistant surgeons frowned, clearly frustrated. “I don’t get it. Everyone in the city knows how good Dr. Simpson and Dr. Hady are. Is this their way of saying they don’t trust us?”
“Seriously. This is the richest family in the country. Most people would give anything to have Dr. Simpson and Dr. Hady in the operating room.”
Dr. Hady cut them off. “Enough. If they want us to wait, it means they’re sure about whoever’s coming.”
“That’s what I think too.” A middle-aged man who hadn’t spoken yet finally chimed in. He kept his eyes on the patient, deep in thought. This was Dr. George Simpson, a legend in the medical world.
“Dr. Simpson, you think they’re waiting for Garrett?” someone asked quietly.
Dr. Simpson looked over at Dr. Hady. “Could be.”
Garrett wasn’t just a medical genius, the kind people only see once in a lifetime. He was also the patient’s grandson, and he’d been looking after his grandfather’s health for years. No one knew the old man better than he did.
“But isn’t Garrett abroad? What are the odds he’d make it back just in time?”
Dr. Hady checked the clock again. 12:08. He wondered how much longer they could wait.
“I think it’s him,” he said, nodding. Honestly, there was no one else it could be.
If Garrett had come back, the surgery had a much better shot at success.
“But even if it is Garrett, the patient can’t hold on much longer. Wait, he’s coughing up blood again!”
Before the assistant could even finish, the old man on the table suddenly brought up a mouthful of fresh blood.
Dr. Hady’s face turned grim. They were out of time.
“Get ready for surgery.”