Eleven Years All to the Wrong Man novel Chapter 277

It was only around nine in the morning when Emma arrived at the hospital.

By the time she finished her chemotherapy, however, it was already four in the afternoon. She had a few messages from her mom asking what she wanted for dinner and if she was in the mood for fish.

Emma opened the chat to reply, but the pain in her lower back from the bone marrow aspiration was intense, worse than ever before.

She steadied herself against the wall as she slowly walked out of the treatment room. But after just a few steps, her vision went black, and she lost consciousness.

When she opened her eyes again, the sky outside was dark. The air carried the faint scent of antiseptic, mixed with the slightly bitter aroma of tea.

The harsh fluorescent light overhead made her eyes ache. It took a few seconds for her vision to focus.

Emma realized she wasn't at home, nor was she in a hospital room. She was lying on a small single bed, covered with a gray men's jacket. The room was small and sparsely furnished, almost stark, with only a desk, two chairs, and a bookshelf crammed with medical textbooks and journals.

Where...?

Though she had a guess, before she could be sure, a cool, male voice spoke from beside her.

"You're awake?"

Of course.

Emma turned her head and saw Nathan sitting behind the desk. He wasn't looking at her; his focus was on his laptop, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

He was wearing the same crisp, clean white shirt, the sleeves rolled to his forearms, revealing the sharp lines of his wrists.

Emma moved to get off the bed, about to bend down and pick it up, but the man had already beaten her to it.

"Just sit for a bit longer. Let's wait another ten minutes, just to be safe."

Nathan gently placed a hand on her shoulder, signaling for her not to move. He then turned, opened a drawer, took out a clean paper cup, and poured her a glass of warm water, placing it by her hand.

"Your mother called while you were unconscious. I didn't answer. You should probably call her back."

At his words, Emma suddenly remembered the messages her mom had sent that afternoon, which she still hadn't answered.

She quickly grabbed her phone. The screen lit up, showing another message from Karen Hayes, sent just a few minutes ago: [Emma, why haven't you answered? I tried calling, but you didn't pick up. Are you busy? Are you still coming home for dinner?]