Chapter 210
Helen swung the car door open, and I slid into the seat, glancing at Kate's worn-out expression. It was as if everything that had happened now meant nothing. The future's bright, isn't it?
"Ms. Claire, these are the renovation plans. Please, have a look."
I took the blueprints and started flipping through them, noticing that each operating room was designed with top-notch specifications.
Classic Max, sparing no expense.
The name "Evergreen Health Center" was written at the top of the plans. Max really had everything well thought out, even the name sounded reassuring.
As we arrived at Evergreen Health Center, a group of workers were gathered around someone lying on the ground.
"Ms. Claire, I'll go check it out; hope it's not a protest or something."
I nodded, having learned to protect myself and avoid acting recklessly. After all, those looking to get to Max would certainly try to target me, his Achilles' heel. Looking out for myself was also a way of being responsible for Max. Helen quickly came back, tapping on the car window, "It's a worker, fell from the scaffolding. A piece of rebar went straight through his heart. The ambulance hasn't arrived yet."
My hand trembled on hearing this.
I hurriedly got out of the car, looking around - no protests, just an unfortunate accident with the rebar and the heart.
"Check how he fell, Helen. That rebar seems like it was placed there on purpose."
Then, I instructed the others with us to prepare the surgical tools. Luckily, Max always kept a set of surgical equipment in his car, which would now come in handy.
As I walked with the toolbox, we were suddenly swarmed by a bunch of reporters.
"Ms. Claire, is it true that Evergreen Health Center is the Hilton's new venture? Can you comment on this accident? Is it due to your workers' lack of safety awareness, or are you cutting corners at the expense of your workers?"
"Ms. Claire, we heard that Evergreen Health Center is supposed to be charitable. Doesn't this incident bode ill?"Content provided by NôvelDrama.Org.
I looked back at my bodyguards, who promptly cleared a path through the crowd.
"I need to save a life right now. Any delay on your part is as good as being complicit in murder," I sternly said, silencing the reporters.
Crouching down beside the injured worker, he tried to speak as he clutched the rebar, blood bubbling from his mouth, but he couldn't form the words.
"Don't worry, I'm going to save you," I said, cutting open his shirt to assess the injury. The rebar was almost in his heart.
We had to operate on the heart immediately.
"It's going to hurt, we don't have enough anesthesia."
The forensic surgical kit didn't include anesthesia.
But his adrenaline was probably enough to numb the pain for now. As I put on gloves and picked up the scalpel, a worker burst in, "Who are you? You can't just operate like this. Who's responsible if something goes wrong?"
I didn't even look up as I made the first incision.
Just as the worker reached to pull my arm, Helen stopped him, "This is Dr. Claire Floyd, the future head of Evergreen Health Center. The Hilton family will take full responsibility."
I focused on my task, layer by layer, until I sighed in relief. The rebar had missed the major artery by mere millimeters. Thank goodness.