You Hit My Heart by Kylie Stanford

Chapter 1965: The Words of a Dying Man

She didn't know how long she had been standing there.

Until her legs went numb, and the weight of her heavy belly made it impossible to continue.

Joyce took a few steps back and sat down on the cold chair.

Dr. Jocelyn's words echoed in her ears, and she felt a wetness in the corner of her eyes, initially unnoticed. It wasn't until this wetness trailed down her neck, chilling her, that she realized she was crying. To be strong was not an easy feat.

"Colonel, would you like to go in and see Mr. Warner? He's still not awake, it might be a while. Maybe an hour, maybe two or three hours. Are you going in to wait? Or would you prefer to wait in the adjacent lounge?"

At that moment, a doctor emerged from inside and respectfully inquired.

Because this was a hospital under the warlord's jurisdiction, they addressed Joyce directly by her military rank.

Joyce heard the voice from above, turned her head, and quietly wiped away the tear stains.

When she looked up again, she had regained her composure. "No, I'll wait here."

She didn't want to go in now. In case Luther woke up, she didn't want him to see her fragile and unable to cope, not wanting him to worry anymore.

"Alright, Colonel, would you like a glass of water?" The doctor asked again.

"No, you go ahead." Joyce waved her hand, motioning for the doctor to leave.

"Alright." The doctor took a few steps forward, then hesitated and came back, reminding Joyce, "Colonel, if you need anything, I'll go prepare the adjacent lounge for you. This is the entrance to the emergency room, there may be other relatives coming in and out later on. It might disturb you."

"I understand." Joyce nodded, not saying anything else. She didn't want to move for the time being.

was on

continued to sit there, propping her chin with both hands, lost in

After a while.

more doctors and family members arrived, bringing in patients in

opened, the doctors ushered the patients inside, closing

minutes later, another group arrived, bringing in

area in front of the

constantly showcasing the drama of life and death, with some laughing and some grieving, each family having

them in front of her, some anxious, some worried, some discussing, and she felt

witness the comings

to stand up and move

conversation among several

going to make it. When he was brought in, the doctor just told me,

might be different. It's all right, every extra year he lived was already a gift from

irritable, always scolding us. No matter what we do, serving tea, water, or food, taking care of him, he

pain comes from all over, and painkillers don't work. How can he have a good temper? Look at how

When Dad was not sick, he had an affair, and gave a lot of money to the other woman. Mom knew

so stubborn his whole life,

I was right outside, and I heard

he had a premonition, knowing his time was short, that's why he said

consciousness, he kept tightly holding my hand. He mumbled a string of numbers. Let me think, how did he

I didn't pay attention, thinking he was speaking nonsense. Oh, I remember now. 324978!! It's this string of numbers. Given what

no one knows his account password. I never thought he would reveal it to you before losing consciousness. It seems he wanted Mom and us to have that money, to prevent it from being taken by

Grandpa did

No wonder they say, the words

"That's right."

just an

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