Critical Case, My Husband Trusted an Intern

Mrs. Walker suddenly suffered a stroke and was rushed to St. Mary’s Medical Center.

My husband, Ethan Walker, a renowned neurologist, promised that he would personally treat her.

But the next moment, he handed his mother over to his clumsy intern, Lily Hart, and left her in charge.

He himself stayed in his office, editing Lily’s graduation thesis.

“Dr. Walker, during the thrombolysis, I accidentally gave two patients’ medication to one person,” Lily burst into tears as she ran in, her face pale with panic.

“Now the patient is experiencing a massive intracranial hemorrhage—what do I do?”

Ethan was silent for a moment, then gently wrapped his arms around her, comforting her patiently for over ten minutes before he finally walked over—slowly.

But by the time he arrived, my mother-in-law had already stopped breathing due to delayed treatment.

“Ethan, it was just a clot-busting procedure. How could Mom die from a brain hemorrhage?”

I grabbed his arm with trembling hands, my eyes bloodshot.

“There’s always a risk of bleeding with thrombolysis. Why are you making such a fuss?”

Ethan shook me off impatiently, his voice cold.

“She was a burden at her age anyway. Even if the procedure worked, what if she ended up paralyzed? Someone would still have to take care of her.

It’s better this way—maybe this was just her fate.”

After saying that, he didn’t even glance at Mrs. Walker lying on the bed. Instead, he grabbed the panicked Lily and left.

I stared at their backs in disbelief.

Lily even turned her head back to throw me a provocative look.

I couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

Did he really think the person lying on the operating table was my own mother?

…

“Family member of the deceased, we need you to sign here.”

A nurse, Nurse Miller, approached me with a death certificate.

“I’m not qualified to sign this.”

I forced down my fury and said coldly,

“Ethan Walker killed her. He should be the one signing this paper.”

I couldn’t help wondering—when Ethan saw the name of the deceased, would he still act like it had nothing to do with him?

I clenched my fists, my eyes locked on their departing figures.

Lily, the one truly responsible for this tragedy, showed no hint of guilt.

She was still clinging to Ethan, skipping playfully at his side.

Ethan even patted her head indulgently.

Their shameless behavior drew disapproving stares from other patients’ families.

“Mrs. Reed, you don’t want to sign? You’re not planning to start a medical dispute, are you?”

Nurse Miller frowned and said irritably, “Don’t forget, Dr. Walker is your husband. If you make a scene, you’ll just ruin his reputation!”

I sneered, memorized her name tag, and filed a complaint on the spot.

Her face darkened.

“Fine. If you won’t sign, I’ll notify Dr. Walker and have him deal with you personally.”

With a condescending glance, she turned and left.

Ha. So this was their plan—using Ethan to threaten me?

When Ethan first joined the hospital, I had done everything I could to help him integrate.

I even donated $200,000 to improve the hospital’s facilities.

During the holidays, I bought gifts for the staff.

Everyone at St. Mary’s Medical Center thought I loved Ethan more than anything.

No wonder they dared to threaten me so fearlessly.