CHAPTER 94: CHAPTER 94: UNEXPECTED ENCOUNTER

Susan Kingston looked at the glass shards on the floor and the blood on Jean Ellison’s hand, not calming down at all; instead, she seemed more agitated and started screaming.

"Murder! You’re trying to kill me! Take it away, take those shards away."

Her screams attracted the nurses from the corridor.

A nurse hurried in, shocked to see the mess and Jean’s bleeding hand.

"Aunt Kingston, what’s wrong? Ah, Miss Ellison, your hand."

The nurse hurried forward to try to calm Susan, who was almost jumping out of her wheelchair.

"Aunt Kingston, calm down, it’s okay, it’s okay..."

But Susan continued to cry and struggle hysterically.

Amidst the chaos, a calm voice sounded at the door: "What’s going on?"

Simon Sterling was just getting off work, and he walked in, having changed into a textured dark gray casual outfit.

His gaze quickly swept across the room, instantly understanding the situation.

He saw Jean holding her bleeding hand, looking pale, while Susan was violently struggling against the nurse’s restraint.

"Doctor Sterling."

The nurse looked as if she’d seen a savior.

Simon Sterling quickly approached Susan, his voice calm.

"Aunt Kingston, look at me."

Susan’s struggles paused for a moment, her cloudy eyes turning to him.

"Look at me, take a deep breath." Simon Sterling’s voice wasn’t loud, yet it somehow penetrated Susan’s cries, "Yes, breathe slowly, it’s okay, it’s very safe here."

While calming Susan with words, he gave the nurse a look.

The nurse understood and immediately took out a spare disposable syringe and a small dose of sedative from her pocket.

In the moment Susan was distracted by Simon Sterling, the nurse quickly completed the injection.

The medication worked quickly; Susan’s cries gradually subsided, her struggles weakening, her gaze became unfocused, and finally, her head tilted and she fell asleep against the wheelchair, leaving only heavy, uneven breathing.

The room finally regained some temporary calmness, leaving behind the mess and the lingering tension in the air.

Simon Sterling sighed in relief, then turned to Jean.

His gaze fell on her still-covered hand, brows slightly furrowed: "Is your hand injured? Let me see."

Jean finally returned to her senses from the previous fright and chaos, slowly releasing her hand. The wound on the back of her hand wasn’t deep but quite long, still oozing a trickle of blood, with some redness and swelling around it.

Simon Sterling glanced at it, his tone allowing no refusal: "Come with me to the treatment room to clean it up; it needs bandaging."

Jean glanced at her sleeping mother, then at the glass shards on the ground, hesitating slightly.

"The nurse will handle things here."

Simon Sterling said, already heading towards the door.

Jean had no choice but to follow him.

The treatment room was just down the hallway.

Simon Sterling pushed open the door and turned on the bright lights.

He gestured for Jean to sit by the treatment table and skillfully put on sterile gloves, taking out iodine, cotton swabs, and gauze.

He gently yet firmly took Jean’s hand.

He picked up a cotton swab dipped in iodine with tweezers, lowering his head to carefully clean the wound.

The sting of the iodine touching the wound made Jean gently hiss.

"Bear with it, it’ll be over soon."

Simon Sterling said, his voice lower and softer than usual.

He was extremely careful with his movements, trying not to cause her pain.

After cleaning the wound, he took a small piece of sterile gauze, covered it, then carefully secured it with medical tape.

Throughout the process, he kept his head slightly lowered, focused on looking at her hand.

The light poured from above him, outlining the clear lines of his jaw and his focused profile.

His eyelashes were long, nose high and straight, and in his casual wear, he seemed more gentle and approachable compared to when he was working, revealing a reassuring professionalism and tenderness in this context.

Jean could smell the faint scent of disinfectant on him mixed with a hint of fresh soapwort aroma.

His hand was steady, the fingertips occasionally touching her skin through the thin sterile gloves, carrying a cool and warm touch.

"Alright."

Simon Sterling finished securing the last piece of tape but didn’t immediately release her hand.

He looked up at Jean Ellison, with a concerned expression, "Try to keep it dry these couple of days, change the dressing daily, and if it becomes more swollen or painful, let me know right away."

His gaze was deep and fixed on her face, as if he was saying more than just advising about the injury.

"Taking care of a patient like this is exhausting, especially..." he paused, hinting at something, "especially when you’re bearing it alone. With me around, you don’t have to shoulder everything by yourself."

Jean Ellison felt uneasy under his gaze and instinctively tried to pull her hand back.

But Simon Sterling gently held her wrist, the grip was light yet enough to make her pause.

He looked into her eyes, lowering his voice, making it softer, "Jean, sometimes, you can try leaning on someone else."

The meaning in his words had surpassed ordinary doctor-patient concern.

Jean Ellison’s heart skipped a beat, she looked at him in astonishment.

Simon Sterling he...

Just then, the slightly ajar door of the treatment room was pushed open.

Justin Holden stood at the door.

He was in a well-tailored dark suit, clearly just coming from some formal event, his posture was upright, but his face held a somber expression.

Beside him stood the beaming hospital director.

The two seemed like they were about to pass by, the director was saying, "Mr. Holden, rest assured, the batch of new monitoring equipment you donated will be prioritized for Aunt Kingston’s ward, which will certainly be beneficial for monitoring her condition... eh? Doctor Sterling, Miss Ellison, what’s going on here?"

The director’s voice trailed off as he noticed the scene in the treatment room.

Justin Holden’s sharp gaze swept inside, immediately landing on Simon Sterling’s hand holding Jean’s wrist, then on the conspicuous white bandage on Jean’s hand, and finally on the overly close distance between the two.

His eyes instantly cooled, his jawline tightened, and the air pressure around him seemed to drop immediately.

Simon Sterling released his hand, turned around calmly, and nodded slightly to the director and Justin Holden, "Director, Mr. Holden, Miss Ellison accidentally cut her hand on glass earlier, I was just helping her out."

Jean Ellison also immediately stood up, somewhat flustered, hiding her hand behind her back, as if she had been caught doing something wrong, a trace of unease flashing across her face, "Lawyer Holden... Director."

Justin Holden’s gaze swept over her bandaged hand and finally settled on her face, his eyes unreadable, offering no response.

He didn’t acknowledge Simon Sterling’s explanation, nor did he inquire about Jean’s injury, instead turning to the director, his tone reverting to its usual cool indifference, as if he hadn’t seen anything just then.

"Director, about what we discussed, I’ll leave it to you to handle."

The director, an observant man, quickly noticed the subtle tension and promptly interjected with a smile, "Mr. Holden, you are too kind, it’s our duty! Aunt Kingston being here, you can be assured we’ll provide the best medical care and attention."

Justin Holden nodded slightly, his gaze seemingly inadvertently sweeping past Jean and Simon Sterling again, his voice not loud yet carrying a clear delineation.

"She’s my mother-in-law, naturally I’ll be attentive, and these past five years, it’s thanks to the hospital’s care."

The director nodded repeatedly, his smile broadening, his tone tinged with familiarity and assurance.

"Understood, understood, Mr. Holden, rest assured that for the past five years, it’s always been this way, We’ll give Aunt Kingston the best treatment, without any neglect!"

Justin Holden said nothing more, glanced at Jean one last time, his eyes complex and unreadable, then said to the director, "Then I’ll be going."

"I’ll see you out," the director quickly offered.

Justin Holden turned and walked away, his posture straight and unyielding.

The director quickly followed.

In the treatment room, only Jean Ellison and Simon Sterling remained, leaving a momentary tension in the atmosphere.

Jean was agitated; she heard Justin Holden claim to be the son-in-law when her mother only had one daughter...

He was simply insane.

What son-in-law, the Caldwell family does not have a son-in-law like him.

When he said that, wasn’t he afraid that her father, his so-called mentor, would crawl out of the grave to settle with him?

Simon Sterling watched the direction Justin Holden left, his eyes flickering.

He withdrew his gaze, looking at the somewhat distraught Jean, his tone returned to its usual gentle demeanor, seemingly cooled by a bit.

"Remember to keep the wound dry, and have a good rest when you get back."

Jean Ellison nodded blankly, her mind in a mess.

She picked up her bag and left the sanatorium alone.

She instinctively touched the bandage on the back of her injured hand with her uninjured hand; it hurt a bit, and she frowned involuntarily.

Just as she was about to walk along the sidewalk towards the bus stop, a hand suddenly reached out and forcefully grabbed the wrist of her uninjured hand.