Emily almost stumbled as she rushed out of her room. She waved down a taxi and jumped inside. "Take me to St. Mary’s Hospital, please, as quickly as possible." The streets were quiet at this late hour, and the car sped along with ease. The driver glanced at her in the rearview mirror, offering a kind word, "Don't worry, miss. Everything will be alright." Emily took a moment to respond, then said a quick thank you. "I... I’m not that worried." "You're out here in your bathrobe; it sure looks like you're in a hurry," the driver sighed. "Did you even grab your wallet?" Emily hurriedly explained, "I have my phone, I can pay you online." "I'm not worried about you paying. But a woman, dressed like that, out so late—it's dangerous. Even if you're in a hurry, you have to protect yourself." Only then did Emily realize her state. She was still in her hotel bathrobe and slippers, her hair damp and dripping water. She quickly gathered the edges of her robe to dry the seat beneath her. The car soon arrived, and she rushed straight into the emergency department. "Nurse, could you tell me where the patient with the vocal cord hemorrhage is?" she asked breathlessly. "Oh, you must be family?" the nurse asked. Emily dodged the question. "How is he doing now?" The nurse pointed towards the end of the hallway. "He's in the trauma room. He had a massive hemorrhage that led to airway obstruction; we’re treating him now. His vocal cords are weaker than paper—how could you let him smoke?" Emily bit her lip. "He smoked again?" "More than that—quite a lot, actually. It seems he smoked heavily over the past few days, enough to trigger this severe hemorrhage," the nurse explained as she led Emily to the operating room entrance, then handed her a cup of hot water. "It’s so cold, and you're dressed like that. Drink some hot water to warm up." "Thank you," Emily said, taking the paper cup and sitting down in the waiting area. Above her head, the red "In Surgery" sign glowed harshly. More emergency patients were being brought in, and the nurse had no time to stay, rushing off to help the others. Suddenly, the entrance became chaotic as several ambulances pulled up. Seven stretchers were brought in, and even from afar, Emily could see the bloodied figures lying on them. "Hurry! There’s been a major accident on the highway, at least twenty casualties expected. Get the emergency equipment ready!" someone shouted. "Over here!" another directed. "BP is zero, no pulse—prepare the defibrillator; it's our last chance!" The emergency room became a storm of activity. Emily glanced at her watch. Twenty minutes later, of the seven brought in, five were declared dead. One of them was just a five-year-old child. Family members who’d been notified began arriving. Some stood in shock, unable to believe the news; others wept bitterly over their lost loved ones. A young girl curled up in a corner, unable to say a word. Emily fetched another cup of hot water from the nurse’s station and walked over to the girl huddled in the corner. "Here, have some hot water," Emily offered gently. The girl looked up, her eyes swollen and red, her voice choked with sobs. "Where is your family?" "He's still in the operating room," Emily replied. "He's still being saved. My mom and dad are gone... I will never have them again," the girl cried. Emily's heart ached. She looked to be just a teenager. To bear the loss of both parents at such a young age... Emily knelt beside her, staying quietly at her side. A while later, the door to the operating room opened. Emily hurried forward. "Doctor..." "Don't worry, he's stable now. The obstruction wasn't too severe," the doctor said, removing his mask. He then added, "Do you know what happened to his throat?" Emily took a deep breath. "It was destroyed in a fire three years ago." "No wonder. You need to be very cautious from now on. No smoking at all—he can’t have even one cigarette. No cold or irritating food, and avoid too much oil or salt. Also, no tea or coffee—just plain water," the doctor instructed. Emily nodded, "I understand. Thank you, doctor.""It’s my duty. The emergency rooms are full, but we’ll transfer him to a regular ward soon. The nurse will guide you on how to take care of him," the doctor added. "Thank you," Emily repeated. The young girl who had been sitting nearby was now beside Emily, watching the doctor run off to save more critical patients. "Is your family okay now?" she asked, looking up at Emily. "Yes, he is." Emily nodded. The girl sniffled, "Can you... hit me?" Emily was stunned. "Why would you want me to do that?" "If it doesn't hurt, then it means I’m dreaming. My mom and dad would still be here. Please, just hit me—hard." Instead, Emily pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly, tears already streaming down her face. ... The hospital room was deathly quiet, the kind of quiet where you could hear a pin drop. The clear liquid from the IV dripped slowly into Vincent's veins. He was still asleep, his face etched in pain, his brows tightly furrowed. Emily sat in the chair beside the bed, staring at her phone. It was now 7 a.m. She dialed Steven’s number. Half an hour later, Dylan arrived. He looked a bit surprised when he saw her. He nodded, greeting her respectfully, "Miranda." Emily stood up. "The doctor said he's out of danger. You don’t have to worry." Dylan visibly relaxed, moving softly so as not to disturb Vincent. "He must've been sneaking cigarettes again." "Yes," Emily replied. "The doctor said he smoked quite a lot, enough to cause acute hemorrhaging." Dylan looked at her, as if wanting to say something but hesitating. "Dylan, if you have something to say, just say it. I can handle it."Dylan shook his head, "Do you need anything? Clothes, breakfast, anything at all? I can have Steven get it." Emily responded, "Now that you're here, I’ll leave. Take good care of him." "...Emily..." Vincent's groggy voice called out suddenly. Emily froze. "Emily, don’t go..."