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Chapter 462
Chapter 462:
The nurses pushed the cart through a set of heavy metal double doors. The red emergency light above the frame flashed on.
The doors slammed shut, cutting June off completely from the only living creature that had brought her comfort in her empty apartment.
Her legs finally gave out.
She slid down the cold tiled wall, hit the floor, and pulled her knees to her chest. She buried her face in her hands. A raw, agonizing sob tore out of her throat and echoed through the quiet waiting room.
𝘋𝗈𝘯’𝘵 𝗆i𝗌𝗌 𝗇𝖾𝘸 𝘳elеas𝗲s о𝗻
Easton stood in the center of the lobby and looked down at his ruined jacket — covered in white rabbit fur, toxic foam, and bodily fluids. He took it off and dropped the five-thousand-dollar garment into a nearby plastic trash can without a moment’s hesitation.
He walked over to June. He did not offer her a tissue. He did not stand over her.
Easton dropped straight down onto one knee on the hard, freezing floor and brought his face level with hers. He reached out and drew her trembling hands away from her face, wrapping his large, warm palms around her icy fingers and squeezing firmly to ground her.
“Look at me, June,” he said. His voice was incredibly soft, yet it carried the full weight of absolute certainty.
June forced her tear-filled eyes open. She looked at the man kneeling before her — his pristine white dress shirt wrinkled, his Wall Street armor abandoned entirely — holding her hands on a dirty hospital floor.
“The best specialists in Manhattan are behind those doors,” Easton told her, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “Snowball is not going to die tonight. Do you hear me p>
The conviction in his voice shattered the last remaining wall of her defenses.
She couldn’t hold it in anymore. She lunged forward, threw her arms around Easton’s neck, and buried her face in his chest. She grabbed fistfuls of his crisp white shirt and pulled him closer as she cried without restraint.
Easton wrapped both arms around her and drew her tightly against his chest. His large hand moved in a slow, steady rhythm up and down her spine — deliberate, deeply protective.
An hour passed.
The heavy metal doors finally swung open. The Chief of Toxicology walked out with a clipboard, his face grim.
“The toxin has invaded the central nervous system,” the vet said. “We need to issue a critical condition notice p>
A wave of pure dizziness slammed through June. The room spun, and her vision darkened at the edges.
Easton’s arm clamped around her waist like a steel band, holding her upright.
He fixed the vet with a cold, lethal stare. “Start the highest level of blood dialysis immediately. I am signing a blank check at the front desk. Do not come back out here until that animal is stable p>
For the next five hours, June sat motionless on a hard plastic chair in the hallway — hollow, silent, vacant. She did not speak. She did not move.