Chapter 324 – Second Chance Love of the Missing Groom Novel

There was nothing Abigail could say since Stephen had already injected himself.

Still, she did not like to owe others. “I’ll allow it this one time. I’ll be upset if this happens again.”

Moreover, even if Stephen fell short before and led to her abduction, he never meant harm.

Stephen nodded in turn and flashed her a grin. “Fair enough-but you haven’t had any rest for days now. There’s plenty of people around to keep things going, so get some rest. We’ll call you the instant there’s any development.”

“Okay,” Abigail replied, rubbing her arm-she had been staying in the lab for over a dozen hours, and her vision was getting fuzzy from reading data and looking through microscopes.

She certainly needed the rest, and she also needed to check on Tommy.

Right now, Sheryl Harris and Mrs. Watson were caring for him around the clock to avoid another high fever.

His fever was low at the moment, but the rash was getting worse.

Abigail was worried, and would constantly travel between her house and the lab.

Thankfully, Diarmuid’s arrangements were perfect-she did not have to worry about safety or she would die from exhaustion.

In fact, she had been losing a lot of weight.

She washed her hands once she returned to the mansion and quickly went inside Tommy’s room to check on him.

He was asleep.

However, it was clear that Tommy was not sleeping soundly-his eyelashes were damp from tears.

Abigail looked heartbroken.

She wished she was the one suffering.

As she quietly lay down beside her son, Sheryl brought her a bowl of warm soup and said, “Drink this before you sleep.”

Abigail did so, and lay down to sleep beside Tommy.

Sheryl left with the bowl and did not impose, but Abigail could not sleep soundly, waking up repeatedly.

As she opened her muddled eyes for a third time, she decided that she could not fall asleep and she quietly got up.

Seeing her leave the room, Sheryl sighed. “You could sleep a while longer.”

It hurt Sheryl’s heart to watch Abigail wearing herself out, but she could not talk Abigail out of it when Tommy’s life was on the line.

Moreover, being busy would help Abigail forget about Diarmuid too.

“I still have to go to the lab,” Abigail told her.

Sheryl could only nod-right now, the only thing she could do for her daughter was to take good care of Tommy.

Along the way, however, Abigail spotted Diarmuid’s car, and it was headed to the hospital.

Abigail was puzzled. Why the hospital?

Did something happen?

As such, she told the chauffeur to follow, and they soon arrived at the entrance.

Abigail alighted.

“Wait for me here,” she told the chauffeur. She strode into the lobby, where she saw Ricky on a stretcher.

“Diarmuid!” she called out when she spotted him. “What happened here?”

Diarmuid turned, surprised to see her there.

Still, his gaze soon darkened as he quietly said, “We were caught by surprise when we tried to get him out.”

Debbie was certainly ruthless.

The place where she held Ricky was filled with traps and there were two guards posted there constantly.

Although Diarmuid’s men managed to subdue the guards, Ricky was stabbed on the chest with a knife when they tried to get him out.

Abigail did not ask for details, and instead quickly furnished up to check Ricky’s injury.

One look was enough to tell her that he needed surgery.

“Get a doctor!” she shouted urgently.

Diarmuid caught her by the wrist. “They will handle this. You—”

“It’s very serious,” Abigail quickly told him. “I have to help operate on him as well. Also, I need a favor.”

She was not a doctor here and they might not let her in the operating room, so she needed Diarmuid to pull some strings.

“This cannot wait!” she exclaimed loudly, and Diarmuid nodded.

Ricky was soon wheeled into an operating room for surgery.

Examination revealed that he suffered damage to his heart, and that his life was on the line.

“We can’t mend it. We need a transplant,” a doctor pointed out.

Abigail remained calm and silent, but she also appeared grim-the other doctor was right, and Ricky might die without a heart transplant!

She spoke just then, “Ask if they have anything on hand.”

A nurse quickly called, and soon they had something: a patient with amniotic fluid embolism.

They were working to save the baby, but the adult was already beyond saving.

However, there was no telling if the patient or her family was willing for the patient to be a donor.

Abigail hesitated for a moment, and went personally to see the person-with Diarmuid on hand to pull strings, she had no problems meeting the patient.

However, her eyes widened when she saw the dying woman. “You?!”

The woman slowly turned, and was equally surprised to see that it was her. “Abigail Bernstein?!”

It was likely that neither of them had expected to see each other under such circumstances.

Somehow, Whitney Cox felt neither jealousy nor resentment toward Abigail.

In fact, she came to realize certain truths while pregnant.

For one, Abigail never owed her, and Diarmuid was never hers.

In fact, her impersonation of Abigail was the reason she managed to get close to Diarmuid.

It was Whitney who acted as if he was hers with no qualms.

“To Abigail was going to speak, but Whitney cut her short and said feebly, “I didn’t expect there to still be a connection between US… That I’d see you during my last moments.”

Whitney lowered her gaze. “Even though we graduated from the same med school and worked at the same hospital, you were better than me in every way. I used to envy you… But it was more jealousy than envy…”

Abigail used to hate Whitney to the bone, but the sight of her looking like a candle in the wind eased her spite.

“You have amniotic fluid embolism,” Abigail said, cutting to the chase. “We’re both doctors, and you understand that there’s not much chance of survival. But are you willing to donate your heart after your death?”

Whitney did a double take-Abigail showed up just to ask her for her heart?

‘Who needs it?” she asked.

“Ricky,” Abigail replied.

Whitney became quiet after hearing the name, and then said, “I will be a donor, but under one condition.”

“Tell me.”

Holding Abigail’s gaze, Whitney said, “I have made a lot of mistakes, but could you not take it out on my child?”

All parents would do anything for their children, and no matter how horrible Whitney had been, she came to cherish her child now that she had become a mother.

Meanwhile, Abigail held her gaze, aloof. “You’re you, and your child is their own person. I won’t take it out on them.”

Whitney pursed her lips then.

“In that case, I should donate my heart to atone for my crimes,” she said. “I was the one who had Samantha White killed. Being able to save her son would make up for it.”

Perhaps aware that she was going to die, she was not afraid of confessing her crimes-talk about near death honesty!

“Ugh…” she suddenly groaned.

Whitney was clearly in a bad shape, so Abigail quickly asked someone to bring in a donor’s form so that she could sign it.

After she stuffed the pen in Whitney’s hand, she signed her name despite the immense difficulty, the pen sliding off her fingers when she was done.

There was a loud clatter, and her breathing soon turned weak as her heart abruptly stopped.

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