Chapter 2300:
But before she could continue, Hadley spun around and strode toward the wrecked white sedan.
By then, medics had already lifted A out and ced her on a stretcher. Blood streaked her face and soaked her clothes, her body limp and motionless. Hadley’s swollen, tear-streaked eyes zeroed in on A.
Without thinking, she lunged forward and seized A’s cor. She shouted, her voice cracked and raw, “Wake up! Get up! Stop faking it!”
“Ma’am, you can’t do that!” a medic called out, rushing over to intervene. “She’s gravely hurt—she needs help right now!”
“Help?” Hadley let out a bitter, hollowugh. “You really think she deserves help?”
Her re burned into the medics, fury radiating from her. “What are you even saying? She’s the one who sent my friends to the bottom of the sea!”
Savannah’s and Elissa’s lives were hanging in the bnce. If the worst happened and they didn’t make it, all the me wouldnd on A—she would be a murderer.
“Someone like her doesn’t deserve to get help!” Hatred smoldered in Hadley’s eyes as she looked at A’s bloodstained face. She gripped the stretcher tightly, unwilling to release her hold. “No! She stays right here! She’s not going anywhere!”
The medics exchanged nervous looks. One of them stepped forward and spoke firmly, “Ma’am, please—let us do our job. We’re here to save lives.”
Another medic chimed in, “If we don’t act now and something happens, you’ll be held responsible as well!”
A dry, emptyugh slipped from Hadley’s lips. Her despair spilled into every word. “Responsible? It doesn’t matter to me anymore.”
By now, nothing mattered to Hadley except finding out if Elissa and Savannah had survived.
A man’s voice then broke through the chaos at that moment. “Let me through!”
Given the situation, Tamara found herself powerless to change Hadley’s mind. Suddenly, a resonant male voice, thick with a foreign ent, pierced the chaotic scene.
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Beyond the police barricade, a man strained to break through, his urgency palpable.
Hadley nced up and spotted a middle-aged figure clutching a convenience store bag, his arm outstretched toward the bridge as he pleaded, “Let me through… please!”
“Sir, you can’t cross!” an officer dered, barring his path with unwavering authority.
“That must be Mr. Brown,” Tamara said to Hadley.
Seizing the moment, she deftly pulled Hadley away from the stretcher. A’s fate was not Tamara’s priority just then. Whether A survived or not, Hadley shouldn’t bear the weight of me—it would only taint her conscienceter.
Tamara guided Hadley forward, offering a courteous nod to the man.
“Excuse me, are you Mr. Neville Brown?”
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Message from Noah: Have a great week dear readers! There will be new novels tomorrow. God loves you, and Noah wishes you all the best. ? ?? ? ?? ?
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