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.

understand what was

continued to sit there, propping her chin with

After a while.

a sudden rush of footsteps, more doctors and family members

doctors ushered the patients inside, closing

another group

the emergency

was like this, bustling every day, constantly showcasing the drama of life and death,

watched them in front of her, some anxious, some worried, some discussing, and

bear to witness the comings and goings of life and death

about to stand up and move

a conversation among several

prepared, this time Grandpa is probably really not going to make it. When he was brought in, the doctor just told me, his organs have

different. It's all right, every extra year he lived was already a gift from heaven. We spent a lot of money

Ever since Grandpa fell ill, his temper has become increasingly irritable, always scolding us. No matter what we do, serving tea, water, or food, taking

and painkillers don't work. How can

his mistakes when he was young. When Dad was not sick, he had an affair, and gave

so stubborn his whole

right outside, and

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

mind. Before Grandpa lost consciousness, he kept tightly holding my hand. He mumbled a string of numbers. Let me think,

thinking he was speaking nonsense. Oh, I remember now. 324978!! It's this string of numbers. Given what you all said, Grandpa had a remorseful heart. Could it be that, before losing consciousness, he was telling me his bank

know Grandpa hid a lot of money, and no one knows his account password. I never thought he would reveal it to you

did something

No wonder they say, the words of a dying man are

"That's right."

just

Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of