He Bet My Life On A Table And Called It Justice For Her Chapter 06

He Bet My Life On A Table And Called It Justice For Her Chapter 06

Seeing Thane’s expression grow worse, the doctor beside him forced himself to speak.

“Mr. Calder, Miss Marlowe’s condition appears to be—”

“Keep pushing the drugs!”

Thane’s head snapped up. His eyes were threaded with red.

“Use my helicopter. Take her straight to the penthouse surgical suite. Now!”

The ambulance tore into the hospital.

The best trauma team had already been waiting.

One hour passed.

Then two.

On the monitor, the line that should have been my heartbeat stayed flat and silent.

No flicker.

No fight.

At last, a young doctor couldn’t stop himself from whispering, “Mr. Calder, Miss Marlowe may already be—”

“What the hell are you saying?”

Thane whipped around, his stare vicious enough to kill.

“She’s just asleep. She’s just… throwing another tantrum.”

He shoved everyone aside and lunged back to the operating table.

His hands shook as he pressed down on my chest again.

“Auden Marlowe, I’m ordering you to wake up.”

“Do you hear me? I don’t allow you to die.”

His voice fell from a roar into a plea, then broke in his throat.

But I gave him nothing.

My body was cold, stiff, and already gone.

Several medical staff moved forward, trying to pull him away.

“Get off me!”

He threw them back like a trapped animal.

“Get out. All of you, get out. Nobody touches her.”

Then came a violent crash.

Dr. Halberd, who had been standing silently to the side, slammed the chart folder in his hand onto the floor.

“Thane Calder, wake up.”

“She’s dead.”

“Her heart has been stopped for more than fifty minutes. I don’t care how much power you have. You can’t bring her back.”

“Let her rest.”

Thane went still, as if those words had nailed him in place.

Slowly, he turned his head.

He looked at Dr. Halberd.

Then at me, half-covered by the white sheet on the operating table.

His eyes were empty, as if he couldn’t understand the meaning of that sentence.

He was still holding a syringe of epinephrine he hadn’t managed to inject.

It slipped from his fingers. The glass hit the floor and shattered.

Thane stood there, staring at the body on the table.

Pale lips. Twisted, ruined legs. A white hospital gown soaked dark red with blood.

Even the sheet beneath her was filthy.

When he had held her earlier, she had been so light it terrified him.

That weight had slammed into his chest like a hammer.

For a moment, he looked lost.

In his memory, Auden still had soft cheeks and eyes that curved whenever she smiled. But the girl on the table was all sharp bones and hollow skin.

When had she become so thin?

And she no longer smiled.

His lips moved. His voice came out hoarse and broken.

“Auden…”

His knees gave out.

He dropped straight onto the cold tile floor, not daring to move one step closer.

Around him, the doctors and nurses left in silence.

The last to go was an older charge nurse.

She walked forward without a word and gently drew the white sheet up, covering that lifeless face.

At the door, she paused.

She gave a silent sigh, but in the end, she said nothing.

Then she closed the door behind her.

No one knew how long Thane stayed on his knees.

A single hot drop hit the floor, spreading into a small dark mark.

Then came another.

And another.

The sound he had been holding back slowly broke loose.

At first, it was a low, strangled sob.

Then it turned into desperate, uncontrollable grief.