?Chapter 1733:


    Earlier, she had used a jewelry tray to block a robber’s punch, and the force of it had wrenched her wrist slightly.


    “It’s nothing serious,” Belinda replied. “Just a minor strain.”


    “You should still get it looked at. Belinda, you’re a surgeon—your hands are everything,” Bethany said with concern.


    Car nodded firmly in agreement. “She’s right. Let’s go to the hospital.”


    “Alright,” Belinda replied, giving in with a nod.


    Before they exited the shop, they all put on the masks the police had handed them.


    Outside the police barrier, a sea of reporters and curious bystanders had already formed, eyes and cameras trained on the entrance.<fn9503> This text is hosted at </fn9503>


    The four women climbed into an ambnce and headed straight to the Grand ins General Hospital.


    Once they arrived, Car refused to have her own neck examined until Belinda’s wrist had been checked.


    After thinking for a moment, Belinda said gently, “Mrs. Wright, your neck injury is more serious than my wrist. Let’s do this—I’ll apany you to get your injury checked first. Then, we can go check my wrist.”


    But Car stood her ground. “No, we can’t dy getting your wrist checked.”


    Bethany stepped in with apromise. “Mrs. Wright, don’t be so stubborn. You can go and get your neck looked at, while I apany Belinda to get her wrist checked. If you finish before us,e find us. If we finish first, we’ll go see you. Does that sound good?”


    After a moment of silence, Car finally agreed.


    “Mom, I’ll go with you to see the doctor,” Kylee said, her voice soft as she reached out to hold Car’s arm.


    But just as her fingers touched Car’s arm, Car swatted her hand away with a sharp, dismissive motion, not even ncing at her. Without a word, she turned and strode off.


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    Kylee’s expression froze, a mix of hurt and embarrassment crossing her face. She bit her lip, her brow furrowing, but she swallowed her difort and still followed Car.


    Bethany and Belinda exchanged a look after seeing that, choosing to stay silent.


    The doctor arranged for a CT scan of Belinda’s hand.


    “The results aren’t back yet. But based on your description, Dr. Wright, it doesn’t seem like a severe injury. Still, to be cautious, avoid straining your hand for the next few days—no heavy lifting or repetitive movements,” the doctor said.


    Belinda immediately frowned. “I’m scheduled to perform surgery tomorrow morning.”


    The doctor hesitated before responding, “I’d rmend finding a colleague to cover for you or rescheduling the surgery. Otherwise, it could worsen the injury.”


    Belinda’s gaze dropped, her lips pressed together as she absorbed the advice in silence.


    Bethany spoke up. “Belinda, you need to listen to the doctor. Your patients matter, but so does your health. If anything happens to your hand, how will you perform surgery for others in the future?”


    “Exactly, Dr. Wright, your role as a doctor demands prioritizing your well-being, especially your injured hand. You can’t effectively care for patients if you neglect your health.” The doctor acknowledged Bethany’s advice with a nod of agreement.


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