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Chapter 693
Chapter 693:
If Annabel hadn’t taken Rory from her, she would never have ended up here—paying this kind of price, letting someone like Dominik corner her into submission.
The only thing that kept Talia upright was the promise burning in her chest:
She would get even with Annabel.
“I won’t stop trying to kill you until one of us dies,” Talia vowed silently.
After work, Annabel returned to the hospital, still too worried about Bruce’s condition.
When she entered Bruce’s ward, she saw Harley and several other doctors examining him.
“Dr. Courtenay, how is Bruce?” Annabel asked as she hurried over.
Harley smiled at her. “You came just in time. We just finished a check-up and he’s fine. Come and take a look p>
“Okay.” Annabel nodded and moved to Bruce’s bedside.
She examined him carefully again, then treated him exactly as Chayce had instructed. For now, all she could do was stabilize his condition and prevent it from worsening.
Chayce had told her not to do the wake-up therapy yet.
As Annabel worked—steady hands, focused eyes—the doctors who had been practicing for ten years, even decades, gathered around to study her technique. Like students, they watched closely and mentally recorded every detail.
If anyone saw the scene, they might have found it almost absurd.
Renowned doctors and senior specialists were learning from a young woman in her early twenties.
When Annabel finished, she turned to Harley, who stood closest, and said, “Check his whole body every three hours. If anything changes, tell me immediately p>
Harley nodded. “Okay p>
“I’ll head out,” Annabel said, turning toward the door.
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“Leaving so soon, Miss Hewitt?” Declan asked. Disappointment flickered across his face.
He hadn’t learned enough from her yet. And he could tell—painfully clearly—that he still had a lot to learn. Annabel had been right about him before. He’d been too quick to judge. Now, all he felt was admiration.
“Yes.” Annabel understood what he wanted, but she didn’t have the time.
By the time she left the hospital, it was already dark.
The sky was packed with heavy clouds, like bruises spreading across the night.
Before she could even reach shelter, rain came down in sheets. Annabel didn’t have an umbrella, and within seconds, she was soaked.
She glared up at the sky. What the hell was wrong with the weather?
She rushed into her car, desperate to get home and change. She still hadn’t fully recovered from her last cold—she couldn’t afford to make it worse.
Annabel gripped the steering wheel and drove fast through the downpour.
As she approached a red light, she pressed the brake.
The car didn’t stop.
