Chapter 274
The woman’s eyes widened, flickering with panic and humiliation. She stared, stunned, as Alaricka steadily forced her hand open. Years of farm labor—poverty, backbreaking work—had made her strong. Only her uncle’s marriage to the hospital director’s daughter had lifted them to the city. Yet this frail girl in a wheelchair overpowered her grip.
Snatching her hand back, the woman clutched both wheelchair handles for dear life. “Listen here—you’re settling this today!”
By now, their commotion was disturbing resting patients. Alaricka could already hear shouts from the wards.
A nurse rushed over, her voice sharp. “What’s going on here? It’s past eleven! Keep it down!”
The woman scowled. “You work here?”
The nurse frowned, perplexed. “Can’t you tell? This is a hospital. Patients are resting. Please maintain quiet.”
The woman snorted coldly, pointing at her son still lying on the ground, then gesturing toward Alaricka, shamelessly spouting words that bore no resemblance to the truth: “You’re a nurse at this hospital, right? Good. Settle this for me and my son. Look, this woman splashed hot water on my son. He’s burned now. Shouldn’t she pay?” The woman picked up the thermos Alaricka had placed on her knees, lifting and shaking it before the nurse’s eyes. “See? This thermos right here.”
The nurse frowned at them, then walked over to the boy. “Burned? Let me see. If it’s serious, we’ll need a doctor.”
The little boy sniffled, squeezing out what few tears he could muster. Pouting, he tentatively offered his arm: “Look, sis. I’m all swollen from the burn. This lady keeps yelling at me, too. I’m really upset.”
The nurse shot Alaricka a suspicious, accusing glance before carefully examining the boy’s arm.
The red burn mark stood out starkly. After a look, the nurse reassured softly: “It’s nothing serious. Just rinse it with cool water. No need for a doctor.”
The woman’s eyes widened instantly. “You must be mistaken! Look closer! His skin’s this red—how could it be fine? Plus, this woman dumped tons of hot water. My son’s crying his heart out. Something’s wrong. Check again.” As she spoke, her gaze turned critical and distrustful. “You’re just a nurse. Can you even tell? Get a real doctor. I don’t want you.”
No way would she let the nurse dismiss this. If it wasn’t serious, she couldn’t squeeze money from that woman for “medical fees.”
Though her expertise was questioned, the nurse stayed polite. “The burn isn’t severe. If you’re worried, buy some burn ointment. It’s cheap. Apply it for a few days—he’ll be fine.”
Alaricka watched coldly. Seeing her expression, the woman grew agitated. Her voice suddenly sharpened: “What’s wrong with you, nurse? I told you my son’s badly hurt! Can’t you see how upset he is?” On cue, the boy wailed loudly again—ear-splitting cries, but not a single tear.
The nurse’s brow furrowed.
The woman roughly grabbed her shoulder. Had the nurse not steadied herself, she’d have tumbled to the floor.
Disdainfully, the woman snapped: “You nurses are useless. All you do is give shots. Get a doctor. Don’t waste my son’s treatment time.”
Even the most patient nurse would lose composure. Coldly, she retorted: “Register at reception yourself. I’m busy.”
The woman gaped, then sneered: “Hey! What’s that supposed to mean? What kind of attitude is that? Is this how you treat patients and their families? I’ll report you! You’re new, aren’t you? Know who my uncle is? He’s the director of this hospital—your boss. When I call him over, you’ll regret this.”
The woman kept tugging relentlessly at the nurse’s uniform. The nurse pressed her lips thinly: “Get your son to a doctor quickly. Any later and his wound might heal on its own.”