She Saved Herself for Her Foster Brother, Not Me Chapter 05

She Saved Herself for Her Foster Brother, Not Me Chapter 05 Seventeen Days Later

When I opened my eyes, disinfectant hit my nose.

Everything was blurry. The white ceiling spun above me.

I tried to sit up. My body refused to move.

My right leg was in a thick cast. My left arm was wrapped in bandages. A sharp pain in my chest made my vision go black.

The nurse saw I was awake and called out, “He is awake!”

Soon, a doctor and several military medics crowded around me. They checked my pupils. Took my blood pressure. Asked my name.

“Ethan.” My voice came out hoarse. It did not sound like me.

“You were out for seventeen days.”

The doctor was in his fifties. His face was grim.

“Skull fracture. Comminuted fractures in your right leg. Three broken ribs. A ruptured spleen. It is a miracle you are alive.”

“My mother…”

The moment I said it, I saw the doctor’s eyes flicker.

“I am sorry. By the time we got there… it was too late.” He lowered his voice. “The staff at the training compound found you. You were covered in blood next to the cage. Your mother… there was not much left.”

“Enough.” I closed my eyes.

The doctor paused, then patted my shoulder.

“You need rest. Try not to dwell on it.”

They left. The room went silent.

I lay there, staring at the gray sky outside the window. Memories flooded back-

My mother falling. The sound of tigers tearing into her. Stella’s cold voice when she hung up on me.

My stomach turned.

I leaned over and vomited. Nothing but bitter acid.

When the nurse came to change my bandages, I asked quietly. “Who brought me here?”

The base hospital got an anonymous call. Someone said there was an injury at the old training

compound. She worked quickly, unwrapping the gauze. “You had your ID on you. We contacted your unit.

“But what?”

She hesitated. “Someone from your unit came once. No one came back after that. The hospital covered your bills up front.”

I let out a bitter laugh.

Stella had made sure of that.

On the third day, two officers from the military justice office showed up.

Lieutenant–colonels. Both stone–faced. They handed me a document.

“Specialist Cole. The investigation into your conduct is complete. Public misconduct. False statements. Damage to the military’s image.”

I took the file.

Page after page of legalese. It all boiled down to one thing.

Everything was my fault.

“The decision has been made. You will receive a formal reprimand. You are suspended from duty. You will be reassigned.”

“Reassigned where?”

One of them pushed up his glasses.

“Logistics support. Kitchen duty.”