Chapter 6
Her pupils were blown wide, her breaths barely there, her pulse weak and thready.
As soon as she saw Charlotte move, Dorothy rushed over and grabbed her arm. Her voice was sharp and accusing. “What are you trying to do to Patricia?”
“Anthony, she even admitted it herself. She’s not some miracle doctor.”
Charlotte shot her an impatient look, her eyes cold and clear. “If you want her to die, then go ahead and keep making a scene.”
Dorothy flushed, speechless, and turned to Anthony in desperation. Was he really going to trust Patricia’s life to someone so young?
Anthony stepped up to Patricia’s side, glanced at the heart monitor, then looked straight at Charlotte. His voice was steady and commanding. “Let her try.”
“Anthony!” Dorothy was so anxious she nearly stamped her foot. “If she can save Patricia, I’ll let her kick my head across the room!”
Anthony cut her off with a single word. “Enough.”
The room went silent at once. No one dared challenge him.
The doctors exchanged uneasy glances, then backed away to give Charlotte space.
Charlotte acted like she didn’t hear any of it. She calmly checked Patricia’s pulse, examined her pupils, and made her decision. Brushing off the spot where Dorothy had grabbed her sleeve, she set down her backpack and quickly searched through the medical supplies.
She found what she needed. A micro-guidewire and a microcatheter, tools made for arterial thrombolysis.
“Turn the lights on. Everyone, stay away from me.”
Her tone and confidence sent a chill through the room. The staff looked on in shock, not daring to speak up.
Arterial thrombolysis. It was called dancing on the edge of a blade-a procedure so risky and difficult that even senior doctors would only attempt it after careful planning.
She looked barely eighteen. Had she even held a scalpel before?
Anthony must have lost his mind.
Charlotte leaned over Patricia, using the monitor to find the blood clot She put on gloves, her movements smooth and sure, and threaded the micro-guidewire right to the blockage.
The medicine flowed in, ten thousand units a minute.
Her technique was so quick and precise, it made even the most seasoned doctors stare in awe. They craned their necks, unable to look away from Patricia’s still form.
For a long moment, nothing changed. The angiogram was flat. Patricia’s skin stayed that scary shade of blue.
Dorothy’s clenched hands slowly loosened. She let out a sharp, satisfied breath. “I told you, she’s just a fraud. What does a kid like her know about treating anyone?” “It’s not too late to stop her!”
Anthony’s lips pressed into a hard line, his eyes icy. He spoke each word with a quiet force. “I said, shut up.”
His deep voice was final. The room went even quieter, tension thick as glass.
Dorothy nearly choked on her
frustration. She muttered under her breath. He’s lost it completelydest
it. “If Patřila died, the Whole Blair
family would blame Anthony.
Charlotte ignored all the background noise. She calmly inserted a second micro- guidewire, this one three millimeters thick.
Ten minutes ticked by.
Suddenly, the monitor broke the
silence with a steady beep. Patricia’s heart rate climbed back to normal her blood pressure stabilized, and the blue faded from her face. Color returned, her eyelids twitched, and her breathing evened out.
Patricia had been in a coma for a week. The doctors had given her barely a five percent chance.
But now, because of a girl everyone doubted, her body was coming back to life.