The Last Time I Cried Your Name novel Chapter 292

The conference hall had a whole wall made of glass, so when Franco rushed by with Petty in his arms, everyone saw them. What really threw people off was the look on Franco’s face—a flicker of panic. He was usually calm and impossible to read, no matter what.

“Wait, was that Franco?”

“Who’s he carrying?”

Someone quickly clocked the clothes on the person pressed against Franco’s chest. “That’s Petty.” Two colleagues leapt from their seats and hurried after them.

At the entrance, it became clear that something was seriously wrong. Petty looked pale, almost paper white, limp against Franco, completely unconscious.

“Franco, what happened to Petty?” someone called out.

The event organizers hurried outside too. Franco was the real headliner for this event. Without him, how were they even supposed to continue? And now, here he was, carrying an unconscious woman in his arms. But Franco was holding Petty so close, most people couldn’t even make out who she was.

Petty? Wasn’t that Mrs. White?

Franco turned, his expression ice cold. “The conference is canceled.” He barely spared them a glance.

Jay fired up the car outside. Franco got in the back, still holding Petty close. His lips pressed tightly as he gently wiped the cold sweat off her forehead with a handkerchief. Was she sick from the sea breeze yesterday? He couldn’t stop running through possibilities in his mind, each one making him more anxious.

They sped to the hospital. The emergency room staff were already waiting. Franco didn’t hesitate for a second—he carried Petty inside, not stopping until they took her from his arms for an exam. Only then did he finally let go.

Minutes ticked by painfully slow. Jay checked his watch—half an hour had passed since Petty disappeared behind those doors. Franco hadn’t moved from his spot by the window, standing stiff and still, just like he had a year ago when Petty had been taken into surgery for an abortion. Jay remembered that day clearly, the bitter cold, the first snow falling in Cabinda. Franco had just stood there, unmoving.

The examination room door opened at last and a doctor stepped out.

Franco’s stiff arms moved. He crossed the room so fast it was like his body moved before his mind could catch up. “How is she?”

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