Chapter 3

"Ma'am, there's no way we would refuse you the surgery—"

The young nurse, badly hurt already, forced herself upright and fought to explain.

But it was too late.

Gordon slammed his foot into her stomach.

She flew back more than a dozen feet and hit the wall behind her.

A sharp crack of breaking bone carried across the room.

A splintered shin bone punched clean through the skin and jutted out of her leg.

No one else dared step forward to talk him down.

Once Gordon had settled Marina somewhere safe,

he charged toward the operating room like a rabid dog,

and drove his foot into the door.

"Bang! "

One deafening crash, and he forced the door open.

In that instant,

Marina turned her eyes to me where I stood at the corner, smug all the way through.

But my own satisfaction stayed buried deep.

Every reckless thing Gordon does under your goading pushes you one inch closer to the cliff's edge.

"Anyone who tries to stop me, I'll kill you!"

Gordon's vicious voice yanked me back.

In front of him stood several operating-room nurses, hands covered in blood, eyes full of shock.

He gripped a knife and swung it fast, back and forth, right in their faces.

The instinct to flee danger drove them back, step by step,

and Gordon pressed forward, step by step.

I could already see the specialist standing there, holding his breath over the surgery,

and his mother lying on the operating table.

The specialist and the old woman were both good people.

He had the resources all along, yet he had waited in line for the surgery until today.

"Hey! You!"

Gordon had reached the operating table now.

Maybe out of some regard for the specialist's reputation, still hoping the man would operate on Marina,

his tone softened a little.

"Put down whatever you're doing and go prep the surgery for my friend!"

The specialist said nothing and kept working,

but his presence pressed down until you couldn't breathe.

Gordon was clearly rattled. He shifted his feet a little, swallowed hard several times,

and seemed to force himself to speak again.

"Are you deaf?!"

"Don't think I don't know—that's your mother lying here! This old hag cut in line ahead of my friend! If you won't operate on my friend—"

"Wait outside."

The specialist cut through Gordon's ranting.

"She's next."

Gordon froze, and then joy rose in his eyes.

Still gripping the knife, he shouted toward Marina out past the operating-room door,

"Marina, the specialist says you're next! He's not going to refuse you—"

"Don't believe him!"

Marina came running forward, every trace of her weakness gone.

"Gordon, he's just saying that to get you out, he's lying to you. I asked the AI, my surgery really does need four hours of prep beforehand—"

"Gordon, I want to live, I want to be with you—"

As she spoke, tears spilled down her face again.

The smile Gordon had just shown froze on his face,

and almost in the space of a blink,

he lunged forward and yanked the old woman's oxygen tube out.