Chapter 1111:
Rylie answered calmly, “I’m in Marinth. It’s secure for the moment.”
Knowing she was in Deandre’s territory, Felix exhaled with slight relief. “I’ll contact him immediately. Send me your coordinates—he’ll come for you and make sure you’re safe.”
Rylie’s voice was calm but edged with urgency. “Felix, this is part of a bigger scheme orchestrated by East Islet. They’re trying to ignite chaos—maybe even trigger a war. Brad is Eshea’s anchor and a constant thorn for Carter. Their plan advances if he’s out of the picture. Don’t worry about me. I came prepared. I’ve hidden several tiny recorders that caught everything. Once I recover them, I’ll get the evidence to you. Then you figure out how to get it to the President.”
Felix’s gaze flicked toward Sean, who gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. Felix turned back to Rylie, his voice steady. “I understand. Stay safe. I’ll handle everything else.”
U𝘱da𝘁𝘦𝗌 𝗲𝘃𝖾𝗿y 𝘸ee𝗄 𝗼𝗇 𝗀𝘢𝘭ոo𝘷еl𝗌.𝗰o𝗆
After a brief exchange with Selah and Marcus, Rylie turned to Nightingale. “Wheel me over,” she said with quiet determination. Her heart ached to see Brad, to know he was still fighting.
Nightingale’s tone was measured. “We reached the hospital late last night. Brad had a full assessment and was moved into surgery early this morning.”
She glanced at her watch, frowning. “It’s been seven hours since he went in.”
Suddenly, a doctor who had been monitoring Brad’s progress hurried toward her, a clipboard clutched in his hands. Relief and urgency flashed across his face when he spotted Rylie.
“Dr. Owen!” Rylie called sharply.
The doctor leaned in, thrusting the clipboard toward her, words rushing out. “The nerve repair didn’t hold. Brad’s bleeding heavily. The only way to save him may be amputation. This form—you need to approve it.”
A heavy silence fell over the hallway.
Rylie’s voice dropped to a sharp, commanding tone. “Where is he?”
“He’s still in the operating room, under emergency care, though the lead surgeon—” the doctor began.
Rylie cut him off, spinning toward Nightingale. “Take me in. Brad’s leg will not be touched.”
The thought of Brad losing his leg tightened her chest. She couldn’t bear it.
The red warning light outside the operating theater cast a stark glow, bathing the corridor in tense urgency.
Two surgical staff stood guard at the entrance, their scrubs crisp, bodies rigid, eyes sharp—ready to block anyone who tried to interfere.
“Family members must wait outside! Surgery is underway—you cannot enter!” one nurse called, stepping forward with authority.
Her arms extended, forming a firm barrier between Rylie and the operating room.
The wheelchair rolled to a halt before the doors. Rylie lifted her eyes, and the icy intensity in her stare made the two medical staff recoil slightly. “I hold a valid medical license. In Eshea, I am Brad’s attending physician and the sole authority over his care. I am entering this operating room to assess him immediately.”
“No! The sterile field must be maintained! Any intrusion—” the nurse began, panic creeping into her voice.
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