Nathalie Quinlan was not interested in listening to their conversation, so after returning the computer, she looked up and said, "I’m going to take a look inside."
With the chip matter resolved, everyone felt a sense of relief.
When she said she was going into the patient’s room, no one stopped her.
Everyone was busy cleaning up the aftermath of the battlefield and reinforcing the system vulnerabilities that needed reinforcing.
*
The hospital room was empty except for the beeping of machines beside the bed.
Nathalie walked over and looked at the man lying on the bed with his eyes tightly closed, his pale lips lightly pressed together, devoid of color.
It felt like an invisible giant hand was pulling at her heart, extrely uncomfortable.
She pulled a chair over to the bedside, sat down, pursed her lips, and drew the man’s wrist from the bedding, laying her slender fingers on his pulse.
The pulse was smooth yet erratic. Fortunately, no internal organs were damaged, and it seed the viscera were okay; he just hadn’t woken up yet.
"Huh." Nathalie exhaled a breath of turbid air, lowered her eyelids, casting a faint shadow beneath them with her raven-black lashes. She put the man’s hand back into the bedding and sat by the bedside a while longer.
About half an hour passed, and the man lying there showed no signs of waking.
Nathalie got up and checked the ti on the wall clock; it was almost noon. She thought she could go back and make so chicken soup, then return, maybe just in ti for his waking.
With that in mind, she moved the chair aside and stood for a bit longer before leaving.
’Click,’ the door to the hospital room had just closed.
Nathalie did not notice that the eyelashes of the previously comatose man inside had trembled slightly, light as a butterfly’s feather.
The hand she had taken the pulse from even moved indiscernibly at the index finger.
The beeping machine beside the bed started to emit a ringing sound.
...
Alfred Garland had just seen Nathalie off.
Upon returning, he found commotion in the corridor and hurried over, grabbing soone to ask, "What’s going on?"
The person he grabbed couldn’t hide his excitent and said eagerly, "Amadeus has awakened!"
"Damn." Alfred’s face first registered shock, then joy, before he realized, "Ms. Quinlan..."
Ms. Quinlan had just left.
He hesitated whether to call Nathalie Quinlan, but seeing everyone rushing toward the patient’s room, he was more worried about Amadeus Yancey and managed to send Nathalie a ssage amidst the chaos before jogging to the patient’s room...
*
Nathalie Quinlan received the ssage two hours later.
The chicken soup was simring in the pot, with only one hour left until it was done; she couldn’t leave, so of course, she couldn’t go there.
She replied to Alfred Garland’s ssage.
Then she saw several other ssages that had been sent shortly after she got off the airplane. She hadn’t had ti to look at them before, so she hadn’t seen them.
At that mont, Nathalie opened one.
It was from Justin Wafford.
[Justin Wafford: Damn, Nathalie, you’re famous now!! Really famous this ti! That’s you on Twitter, right? I recognized you at a glance. The school forum is going crazy. Those who dissed you before because of Wenny Taylor are now completely changing their tune, calling you the school beauty of No. 1 Middle School and saying you’ve brought honor to the school.]
Nathalie looked at it for a long ti but couldn’t understand what it ant.
What about Twitter.
What about the school beauty.
She leaned against a closet, her long legs casually draped there, standing in a relaxed and nonchalant pose, and opened Jhovany Sullivan’s ssage.
[Jhovany Sullivan: Nathalie, did you check Twitter? Hurry up and look at Twitter.]
Then ca the ssage from Freddy Cagwin.
[Freddy Cagwin: Congratulations.]
After looking through several ssages, she was still confused. She decided not to reply for the mont, exited the chatbox, and opened Twitter.
Twitter always displayed only those few hot searches.
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