"Yoli. Yoli, come on, wake up. Say something to me."
Lizetta's hands were trembling, her voice shattered. She couldn't bring herself to touch Yolanda, fearing she might shatter her into pieces.
How could there be so much blood? Such a torrent flowing from beneath Yoli's head.
"Somebody help! Please, someone save her."
Her vision blurred, everything around her seemed to dissolve into ghostly shadows, a vast emptiness swirling before her eyes.
Only the glaring red beneath Yolanda stood out, so vivid, so scarlet.
It was all her fault. She knew it was reckless, yet she insisted on throwing this damned wedding, and now Yolanda was paying the price because of her.
"Liz."
Remington had no clue what had happened as he caught sight of Yolanda unconscious in a pool of blood.
The sight of Lizetta sitting there, trembling and breaking down, and the blood staining Lizetta's wedding dress, turning the pristine white into a haunting red, clenched his heart in an iron grip, a suffocating pain. He called out to her unconsciously, but Lizetta seemed not to hear him.
Remington, more panicked than he'd ever felt, but one thing was crystal clear in his mind: Yolanda must survive!
If anything were to happen to Yolanda, he and Lizetta would be over!
In a split second, Remington was down on one knee, swiftly tearing a piece of fabric to carefully lift Yolanda's head, pressing down on the wound to stop the bleeding.
"Get a doctor! Now!" At the same time, he barked orders at the flustered hotel manager.
There were medical staff in the hotel, and as the manager snapped back to reality, he fumbled with the walkie talkie.
"Liz, don't be scared. The doctors are on their way, and so is the ambulance."
Remington tried to comfort Lizetta, but the moment she recognized him, her empty gaze filled with intense loathing and coldness, sharp and piercing, as if a million needles were ready to tear him apart. Remington had never seen such a look in Lizetta's eyes before.
She was always gentle and meek, avoiding conflict, never taking initiative to stir up trouble, her anger as harmless as a cat's playful scratch.
But he'd never seen her look at anyone with such deep disdain and almost hatred, especially not towards him.
And yet, now, she looked at him that way, as if she wanted to gouge out his heart.
He even heard her say in a voice foreign and hoarse, "Don't touch her with your filthy hands!"
Remington's handsome face turned cold as a storm cloud, while Lizetta looked around desperately for someone to help, "Hogan! Please, save Yoli! I beg you."
Lizetta's eyes found hope in Hogan, who had rushed out from the banquet hall upon hearing of the accident.
Just as Hogan broke through the crowd, Lizetta grabbed him desperately. Seeing her tear-streaked and utterly distraught face, Hogan quickly stepped forward, "Don't panic; let me have a look." Being a doctor accustomed to emergencies, Hogan was the most composed and reassuring presence there.
His professional demeanor and actions soothed people; Lizetta's frantic feelings gradually waned.
"Mr. Dashiell, let go."
Hogan crouched to take over from Remington, who, stared closely at Lizetta being comforted by Hogan, his fists clenched; though his expression darkened, he immediately made way for Hogan. Hogan was a medical professional; he was indeed the best option.
"The impact missed the critical areas of the temporal, frontal, and occipital lobes, but the bleeding is quite severe. Applying pressure to stop the blood flow was the right move, but she needs surgery immediately!"
Hogan spoke in a grave tone, applying specialized techniques to quickly stem Yolanda's bleeding.
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