Love's Cunning Ruse novel Chapter 324

Julie barely registered what was happening until a stretcher zipped by with hospital staff bustling around it. Snapping into action, she darted after it.

Dr. Brice, in full sprint alongside the stretcher, barked at Julie without slowing down, "OR on the seventh floor, find Harding Ladd!"

Realizing the urgency, Julie pivoted on her heel and bolted toward the hospital director's office. Daphne, standing nearby, flashed a reassuring look and urged, "Go, hurry!"

As Dr. Brice and the stretcher disappeared into the elevator, Daphne hesitated for just a second before following them in.

Inside the director's office, Mr. Watson lounged on the couch, immersed in his video game, casually remarking, "That beast Julien, have you figured out how to handle her yet? Last time, I was afraid to leave my house for a week."

Harding, reviewing medical records at his computer, glanced over with a mix of annoyance and amusement, "If you're so tough, go deal with her yourself and see how our little sister sorts you out."

Pausing, Harding added, "Actually, it's more like seeing how Bertha deals with you. And don't forget, Julien's got her own knight in shining armor, Hayden Simson. He's no lightweight."

At the mention of that name, Mr. Watson instinctively shrank back and refocused on his game.

"Why must you game in my office? Can't you do something productive for once?" Harding grumbled.

Mr. Watson, legs crossed and sunk into the cushions, retorted with a lazy drawl, "What's productive?"

"How about getting married and starting a family? Your grandmother is getting impatient."

"Can you do it? No? Then shut it!" Mr. Watson tossed a cherry into his mouth, the epitome of nonchalance.

Harding, annoyed, flung a pen holder in the direction of the couch. Mr. Watson, quick as a cat, deflected it, sending the projectile flying toward the door. That's exactly when Julie burst in, and the pen holder made a beeline for her forehead.

"Ow, damn!" Mr. Watson leaped to his feet, his phone clattering to the floor. "Crap, did I knock some sense into you?"

Julie had no time for banter, ignoring the throb in her forehead as she grabbed Harding's arm, "Seventh floor OR, now, hurry!"

Seeing Julie's panic, Harding was dragged out of the office without even asking what the emergency was.

Mr. Watson, a beat behind, caught up and followed them into the elevator, pressing, "Who? Who's in surgery?"

"Professor Fred," Julie explained, breathless. "I was about to grab lunch when I saw Dr. Brice wheeling him from the ambulance, covered in blood. He told me to fetch you, so..."

Sensing her anxiety, Mr. Watson patted her shoulder, "Easy, darling. No need to worry. Harding's got magic hands. Unless they're stone-cold dead, he can bring 'em back."

Mr. Watson's idea of comfort was certainly... unique.

They arrived on the seventh floor fraught with nerves. Harding strode to the OR, and once he was inside, Julie finally exhaled. Why did a regular excursion turn into this bloody mess?

Daphne sat next to Emily on a nearby bench. Emily, a statuesque blonde with piercing blue eyes, clutched a stuffed panda, now stained with blood, to her chest as if it were her lifeline. Her pale skin, usually so fair, now seemed almost vampiric against the red blotches.

Daphne's voice was soft, clearly worn from trying to comfort the girl. Emily was only nineteen, her father's fate hanging in the balance on her birthday. Julie knew Professor Fred had been picking a birthday present for his daughter – the blood-stained panda likely that very gift.

Daphne looked up helplessly at Julie's approach.

After a long silence, Julie sat down beside Emily, unsure of what to say. Finally, she echoed Mr. Watson, "Dr. Ladd is incredible, he can work miracles..."

She wasn't even sure Emily understood her words, but she had to express that Dr. Brice and Harding would do everything possible.

Just as Julie finished speaking, the OR doors flew open.

Emily leaped to her feet and rushed toward the door – the figure emerging was Harding.

"I'm sorry." Harding's face was grave, his apology accompanied by spotless gloves. Julie noticed the lack of blood, realizing that perhaps Fred had already taken his last breath before Harding even got started.

Behind Harding, the medical team filed out, Dr. Brice among them, his scrubs a stark contrast to Harding's clean gloves, drenched in the reality of their efforts.