Richelle Dunn had been in the operating room for nearly five hours, and when she came out, her body was drenched, as if she had just been pulled out of the water.
Roy Lewis had sharp eyes; as she walked out, he went over to help her.
Richelle was still wearing her mask, her eyes filled with a trace of heaviness and sadness.
"Roy, I'm sorry...I tried my best..."
Roy's heart felt as if it had been stabbed viciously by a sharp instrument, causing great pain.
But he deliberately ignored it, gently patting Richelle on the shoulder as he embraced her.
"Richelle, you don't have to blame yourself. You've already done your best. My uncle won't blame you either."
Richelle nodded, "I know, but I can't help but think that if I had tried to save my uncle at the first opportunity, he would have woken up tomorrow...but now, I don't know how long he'll be in the ICU..."
Roy heard her final words and suddenly pushed her away.
"Are you saying that my uncle is...saved?"
