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Chapter 759:
His chief of staff arrived a few minutes later with a team of bodyguards. They sealed off the entire VIP floor immediately, keeping reporters and strangers at a distance.
“Mr. Compton,” the chief of staff said quietly, holding out a dry towel. “You should change your clothes. You’ll catch cold p>
Cole turned and looked at him. His eyes were wild and bloodshot. The chief of staff flinched. He had worked for Cole for ten years and had never seen him like this.
“Get out,” Cole said.
“But sir p>
“I said get out p>
The chief of staff backed away quickly.
Time dragged. One hour. Two. Three.
𝗔𝖽𝖽i𝘤𝘁𝗂𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝘁оr𝗶𝘦ѕ о𝗇.с𝗈m
Cole’s pacing slowed. He leaned against the cold wall, then slowly slid down it until he was sitting on the floor. He buried his face in his hands, and his shoulders began to shake.
The OR door finally opened.
The head doctor walked out, pulling off his mask. His face was grave.
Cole was on his feet instantly, crossing the distance in three strides. “How is she?” he demanded, gripping the doctor by the collar. “Is she alive p>
The doctor nodded, swallowing. “The lobar pneumonia is under control. We got the fever down. But—” he paused, “—Mr. Compton, she’s in a deep coma p>
Cole’s grip loosened.
“What p>
“Her body is physically stable,” the doctor said. “But her mind—she has no will to live. All of her vitals are holding, but she’s not waking up. If she doesn’t want to come back, there is nothing we can do p>
Cole stared at him.
No will to live.
The words echoed through him, over and over again.
She wanted to die.
Because of him.
Midnight.
The VIP ward was silent except for the steady beep of the heart monitor.
June lay still in the hospital bed, her face pale, an IV drip in her hand.
Cole sat in the chair beside her, exactly where he had been for the last six hours. He had changed into a clean black shirt, but he hadn’t slept. His eyes were bloodshot, and he hadn’t taken his gaze from her face for a single second. He held her other hand loosely in his, his thumb moving in slow circles across her knuckles.
Then June’s brow furrowed in pain. Her breathing became rapid and shallow. Beads of cold sweat broke out on her forehead.
Her temperature spiked again.
The fever dragged her down into the depths of a nightmare.
She was back in Switzerland. Seven years ago. The blizzard was howling, the snow coming down so hard she couldn’t see three feet in front of her.
Then the avalanche hit.
A wall of white, roaring down the mountain, swallowing everything in its path. June screamed, but no sound came out. The cold was unbearable, seeping into her bones, into her lungs. She was drowning. Drowning in snow.
In the real world, June’s body began to shake violently. She grabbed Cole’s hand, her nails digging deep into his skin, hard enough to draw blood.
It was the only thing she could hold onto. The only thing keeping her from being swept away forever.