Chapter 291: Nathael Must Be Feeling the Same Way

Leslie's words offered Maggie a hint of comfort. She remained motionless, watching his swift entry into the operating room. Her heart filled with worry once again.

She saw that Nathael had numerous bruises and scratches, but the condition of his organs and bones remained uncertain. Then there was the severed finger. Even if it could be reattached, Maggie knew it wouldn't regain full functionality. Nevertheless, she clung to a glimmer of hope.

"Ms. Adam, let me help you tend to your injuries first," a compassionate female doctor offered.

Alex also suggested, "Ms. Adam, you should attend to your injuries."

Maggie gently declined. "My injuries aren't severe. I can address them once he's out."

Although Alex wanted to say more, he recognized his inability to sway her. He regarded Maggie with a more intense gaze. He still didn't understand her. He initially thought she'd risked her life for something significant, only to discover it was for Nathael's severed finger, which might not function even after reattachment.

Despite her lack of severe injuries, Maggie was clearly in pain. When she and Ethan left the temple, it was already too late. The intense heat and flying rocks from the explosion felt like sharp knives against her delicate body. While Ethan, hardened by a lifetime of perilous situations, could endure the impact, Maggie's tender physique magnified the pain of her wounds.

Maggie remained silent. After a while, footsteps sounded. Mia and Joyce soon arrived. Mia, her hair disheveled, abandoned her usual refined appearance and rushed to embrace Maggie tightly.

"Who the hell did this to you? You almost gave me a heart attack! I swear, I'll make them pay!" Mia's eyes blazed with anger. She had only received the news that morning and immediately booked the next flight.

Joyce, dressed casually in a cap, stood nearby, visibly relieved to see Maggie.

Maggie's eyes shimmered as she softly assured them, "I'm fine."

"Maggie!" A soothing voice echoed from behind. Maggie looked up and sobbed, "Ericko."

Ericko, pale-faced, approached, examined Maggie's injuries, and embraced her tightly.

Thank goodness. Thank goodness. I thought I had lost her again.

"It's alright now. Everything's okay," Ericko comforted softly, feeling his late arrival keenly. Though he wished to say more, bitterness lingered.

Perhaps the presence of her loved ones provided solace. Maggie felt a weight lift from her shoulders, and some of the autumn chill dissipated. Ericko removed his jacket and draped it over her, speaking tenderly, "Go get your injuries treated."

Maggie shook her head, her gaze fixed on the operating room, tears threatening to spill. Her heart was gripped by fear. Unknown to the others, she felt as though she had returned to the time after her death in her past life. She had become a spirit, trailing behind Nathael as he was wheeled into the operating room. She saw his blood-smeared arm, and the doctors expertly cutting and sewing it back on…

The mere thought made Maggie shiver. She couldn't imagine the pain Nathael must be enduring.

"Maggie, Nathael will need you to look after him when he comes out. But you must take care of yourself first to be able to help him," Ericko said, his hands resting on her shoulders as he bent to meet her gaze, his eyes determined and strong.

Maggie composed herself and nodded faintly, finally agreeing to be treated.

With Mia and Joyce, she went to the treatment room. Maggie sat while doctors and nurses used scissors to cut away her blood-stained clothes and tend to her wounds. When Mia saw Maggie's back, her eyes brimmed with tears. Her once smooth back was now marred with injuries: scratches from rocks, gravel, and burns, all crimson with blood.

Mia looked away, unable to bear the sight. Joyce also averted her gaze and offered Maggie a cup of warm water. Maggie took it and forced herself to drink. The warm liquid eased her nerves.

The process of removing fragments with tweezers and disinfecting with iodine was lengthy and painful, a burning sensation spreading from each tiny point. Maggie felt as if her entire back was on fire, yet she felt strangely numb, experiencing the pain but not fully reacting to it.

She couldn't help but wonder how much pain Nathael was enduring. Whether in this life or the last, how much agony had he faced?

Maggie lowered her gaze, hiding the bitterness in her eyes. Should she have ended things with Nathael when she realized she wouldn't live long? Should she have given in to Timothy's threats? Should she have ended up with Timothy on the mountain?

Regret, resentment, and self-blame swirled in Maggie's mind. She questioned whether reconnecting with Nathael after getting a second chance was a mistake.

"Maggie" Joyce gently held Maggie's hand, pulling her from her thoughts.

Maggie snapped out of it and forced a smile, whispering, "I'm okay."

But she couldn't help thinking, Perhaps it's true what they say—the good die young, while the evil live forever. I'm the one who deserves to die the most.

Seeing Maggie's distress, Joyce embraced her gently. "Don't blame yourself. It's not your fault."

Maggie buried her face in Joyce's waist, a hot tear rolling down her face. "Joyce, I wish… I was the one inside…"

She already owed him so much, but she couldn't change the outcome.

Joyce's eyes reddened as she stroked Maggie's hair. "Nathael must be feeling the same way."

Maggie fell silent, and Joyce whispered, "After the cold winter, when the ice and snow melt away, all things will come back to life, and flowers will bloom."