Now, Isabella was sobbing hysterically while Vincent cornered the doctor, his face purple with rage.
"What do you mean his hands are gone?" Vincent roared. "He's going to hold a scalpel! He's a future surgical prodigy! You have to save his hands!"
The doctor shook his head. "Mr. Finch, the hands were subjected to extreme sustained heat. But the real damage came from the secondary tearing caused by rough extraction. The nerves and tendons are necrotic."
He paused. "Saving his life is a miracle in itself. As for his hands... he'll struggle to hold chopsticks, let alone a surgical instrument."
Isabella's eyes rolled back. She collapsed in a dead faint.
Vincent slammed his fist against the wall. "I don't care! My son is not ruined! Fix him!"
Watching from the sidelines, I felt nothing but cold detachment.
Is this the choice you wanted, Derek?
In the past, I'd cut the power and used wet cloths to shield his hands. I'd used leverage to move the debris carefully, ensuring he was extracted intact. I destroyed my own lungs in the process, leaving me with a lifelong respiratory illness.
And he hated me for it.
I wondered if he'd be satisfied with the "Department Beauty" who'd just crippled him for life.
Right on cue, the savior herself stormed over.
"You're his parents, right? Perfect!" She held out her hand. "Your son promised me two million if I got him out. Hurry up and pay!"
Vincent whipped around, brows knitting furiously. "Who the hell are you? This is a hospital—stop screaming!"
"I'm his savior!" The girl puffed out her chest, oblivious to the atmosphere. "If I hadn't dragged him out, he'd be a pile of ash by now! Pay up. Two million, not a cent less!"
Vincent froze. His eyes narrowed.
"You dragged him out?"
Vincent Finch's face darkened.
"The doctor said his hands are destroyed because they were dragged across the ground! If you lack common sense, stay out of rescue situations!"
Rage propelled him forward. He seized the girl by the collar.
That single, violent tug revealed something impossible.
"Watch it! What are you, a pervert?"
She slapped his hand away, clutching her collar tight against her throat.
My expression shifted.
I replayed the image in my mind.
This girl was not simple.
"Cut the crap! You ruined my son's life, and you will take responsibility!" Isabella joined the fray, grabbing at the girl's arm.