Nathalie Quinlan’s sweat trickled down from her forehead to her chin as she removed the tumor and clamped it with tweezers before tossing it into a tray beside her. Her hands were already preparing for the next step, the suturing.
The difficulty of suturing was no less than that of removing the tumor; the slightest deviation in either could lead to surgical failure and the patient dying on the operating table.
*
Outside the operating room.
Alfred Garland had already taken several phone calls, continuously updating Amadeus Yancey on the arrival progress of specialists from Beijing.
Aside from occasionally comforting Aunt Cagwin, Amadeus Yancey didn’t seem worried about Ms. Quinlan.
During his phone calls, he heard the whole hospital discussing the "high school girl performing surgery"; even two passing nurses were talking about it, questioning if the neurosurgery departnt had gone mad.
Alfred moved closer to the man with a worried face, noticing the darkness outside and the silence from the operating room. He whispered, "Amadeus, it’s been four hours and Ms. Quinlan hasn’t co out yet. Ms. Zachmann is still circling McKinney and hasn’t returned to Beijing. She’s a top student from the dical Departnt at Tsinghua University. Should I go and bring Ms. Zachmann over? She might be able to help."
It wasn’t that he didn’t believe in Nathalie; it was just that Ms. Quinlan was too young.
Although Ms. Zachmann spent her college years dabbling in the entertainnt circle, her intelligence and academic proficiency could not be underestimated; she was a high-achieving student at Tsinghua University’s dical Departnt, surely stronger than Ms. Quinlan.
"I trust her."
With his tall stature and long legs leaning against the wall, Amadeus Yancey’s athletically built body could rival that of a male model, yet he exuded an intimidating aura. Even with his eyes forever lazy and downcast, he gave off the sense of a lion napping—dangerous and threatening.
Even if the lion was sleeping, would you dare to touch its hindquarters?
Alfred Garland wore an expression that spoke volus, unable to stop himself, "Amadeus, just in case—I’m not jinxing Ms. Quinlan here, but just in case she fails, wouldn’t it be better to have soone on standby to take over for her than to have no one?">
Amadeus Yancey cast a sidelong, sowhat lazy glance his way, nonchalant, "You an to say Caryn Zachmann is more skilled than the veteran doctors with over thirty years of experience at the First-class hospital?"
Caught off guard, Alfred Garland touched his nose awkwardly, "That’s not what I ant, I just..."
No matter what, the Zachmann Family’s young lady was better than Nathalie Quinlan.
He had a good relationship with Nathalie Quinlan, so he kept that thought to himself and didn’t say it out loud.
In that mont, Amadeus Yancey changed his pose, casually playing with the Buddhist beads on his wrist, his deanor cool and assertive, "Even if she botches it up, isn’t there still ?"
Alfred Garland: ...
Damn!
Was Amadeus really including Ms. Quinlan in his own circle of protection?
...
While they spoke, the light in the operating room suddenly switched off, changing from red to green.
The family mbers sitting in the hallway imdiately stood up and rushed towards it.
Freddy Cagwin grabbed the first doctor who ca out, dreadfully anxious and pale, "Doctor, how is my father?"
"Amadeus, the doctor has co out." Alfred Garland also noticed the activity in the operating room, with his heart in his throat, "I don’t know if the surgery was a success?"
The experts from Beijing would arrive shortly, and if Ms. Quinlan failed at this juncture, it seed that only Amadeus would be left to clean up the ss.
Alfred Garland always thought of Nathalie Quinlan as a sensible, reliable young woman, but now he couldn’t help but feel resentful, thinking she had been too willful in this matter.
Amadeus Yancey’s eyes were profound, his hands in his pockets. His handso face was impassive, far calr than Alfred Garland’s.
"Let’s go, over there."
Was Amadeus really not in a hurry?
Seeing Amadeus so completely confident in Nathalie Quinlan, Alfred Garland felt like a eunuch fretting while the emperor remained unperturbed, and he had no choice but to follow.
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