The scream was from the patient in the next bed.
She shrunk into a corner, her voice trembling as she spoke. “Ma–Ma’am, don’t do it!”
Mrs. Hardy knelt on the ground, right in the middle of the spilled hot water.
In her hands was a silver shard from the shattered inner lining of the thermos, its sharpest end pointed toward her own neck.
“If you don’t come with me to see Travis, I will die right here! Right in front of you! I’ll let you feel that guilt for your entire life!” Her bloodshot eyes glared at Larissa, a resolute expression on her face.
Larissa had to admit, at that moment, she was truly afraid.
She had been so afraid that for a brief instant, she forgot how much Mrs. Hardy feared death, how truly manipulative and shameless she was. In her panic, she agreed to the woman’s request.
Travis had already passed the critical period and was transferred from the intensive care unit back to a regular ward in the spinal surgery department.
Each ward had three patients in one room, but the room Travis was in only had two
When Larissa entered the room, Mr. Hardy was sleeping on the empty bed, his loud snores filling the room.
As soon as he heard a noise, he moved his neck to glance at the entrance.
Then, he froze.
Travis‘ appearance at that moment was completely beyond her expectations. He was bald, his head wrapped in bandages, and his thin face crisscrossed with similar bandages. His complexion was pallid, and his eyes bloodshot.
It was obvious that he wasn’t doing well at all.
As soon as he saw her, Travis‘ eyes filled with tears, and Larissa’s slender figure reflected within those clear irises. His lips trembled and his throat was constricted but he forced out two syllables after staring at her for a long while. “Lari—”
His voice was incredibly hoarse, as if his throat had been scorched by fire and polished with sandpaper.
Larissa stood at the entrance and gazed at him distantly. The passion in his eyes strengthened her impulse to turn away and run.
“He is so gross,” she thought to herself.
She would’ve long sprinted out of the room if it hadn’t been for Mrs. Hardy who was right behind her, blocking her sole exit.
Seeing as she stood there, unmoving, for a long time, Mrs. Hardy gave her a push, forcing her into the ward.
As soon as she entered, Mrs. Hardy followed closely and locked the door behind her.
“Are you thirsty?” she asked Travis.
“Yeah,” he replied, his eyes still pinned on Larissa.
Larissa avoided his gaze. She clutched her backpack and stood against the wall without saying a word.
Mrs. Hardy’s expression shifted. With long strides, she approached the sleeping Mr. Hardy and smacked his head, hard.
“I told you to take good care of your son, but here you are, sleeping so comfortably!”
Mr. Hardy jolted awake, dodging her fists instinctively. In doing so, he fell off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thump.
Even so, Mrs. Hardy’s fit of rage was far from over. She rounded the bed and kicked him viciously while he was down.
“Do you want our son to die of thirst? What’s the use of you being here? I go out every day in the rain, and I even got sent to the hospital today because of a fever, and yet you can’t even understand how hard I work? You didn’t even do any of the tasks. you had today! You stupid bastard, you should’ve died instead! Why aren’t you the one on this bed? Why aren’t you the one hit by the car instead, you useless piece of shit!” She yelled furiously, not even stopping to catch her breath. She looked completely unlike a patient who was currently burning up.
Mr. Hardy had initially felt guilty, and he allowed her to hit and scold him without fighting back.
Later, when she’d gone too far and hit him with too much force, he finally snapped. Supporting himself up along the bed, he grabbed her hair in his fists–and slammed her head repeatedly against the wall.
Again and again, her head banged against the wall, the sound of it particularly frightening.