Chapter 1204: Separation, Hope

Hannah lay beside Oscar's hospital bed, overwhelmed and exhausted. A day and night of waiting had drained her physically and emotionally. Her injuries, numerous and varied, had finally caused her to collapse.

As she lost consciousness, Hannah thought that if Oscar didn't wake, she didn't want to either. The thought of death separating them was unbearable. She couldn't endure that pain.

Eventually, Hannah opened her eyes in the quiet hospital room. She stared at the ceiling, motionless.

"Hannah," Michelle whispered, her voice soft, fearful of startling her. Michelle wasn't sure Hannah was awake. Hannah saw Michelle's worried expression—the grey hairs, the wrinkles—and felt a sharp pang in her chest. She'd just been contemplating Oscar's possible death. Should she follow him? But what about her parents?

Tears welled up.

"Hannah, my girl, don't cry," Michelle said, wiping away her tears. She knew how devastated Hannah was, and the sight of Oscar's injuries had left her deeply worried.

Hannah fought to compose herself, unwilling to further distress her parents. "How is Oscar?" she asked, her voice choked with sobs.

"He's been in intensive care since you passed out," Michelle replied gently. "I've been here. Your dad came twice; he's just gone back to Oscar's ward."

"I want to see him," Hannah said, struggling to sit up.

Michelle supported her. "You should eat something first. The doctor said you collapsed from low blood sugar. You had glucose, but you need food to prevent another faint."

Hannah bit her lip. Dizziness lingered, making it hard to stand, let alone walk.

"Okay," she murmured, nodding weakly. "I'll eat."

Michelle summoned a nurse. Though Hannah had no appetite, she forced herself to eat a little, knowing that as long as Oscar lived, she would remain by his side. This required taking care of herself. After some porridge and rest, she went to see Oscar, supported by Michelle.

They reached the intensive care unit. Through the window, they saw an empty room. Hannah panicked; Michelle froze. Oscar might have died.

Tears streamed down Hannah's face, the pain of loss overwhelming her. She trembled with sobs, at one point wishing to faint again, to escape the agony.

"Hannah," a familiar voice—Manuel's—reached her. She turned, her vision blurred, and saw him, pale but urgent.

Was he there to deliver the news of Oscar's death? She clenched her jaw, fighting back tears. "Where is Oscar?" she asked.

"I'm taking you to him. I found your ward, then thought you might be here," Manuel explained.

Hannah nodded weakly and followed him to the elevator. With each rising floor, her panic intensified.

The elevator doors opened to reveal a helicopter beside a white hospital bed. Someone lay upon it.

Hannah approached slowly, fearfully. She stood before Oscar, who lay still, eyes closed, his face ashen. Hannah covered her mouth, terrified that tears would break her completely. She wanted to surrender, to cease caring.

"Hannah," a familiar, weak, deep voice whispered.

Her heart leaped; she thought it a hallucination. Then Oscar called her again, tenderly.

"Hannah," he repeated, his eyes opening with difficulty, meeting hers.

Tears streamed down Hannah's face—tears of joy.

"Oscar's going abroad for treatment, but he insisted on seeing you one last time before he left," Manuel explained. "He didn't want you to worry."

Hannah nodded, relieved. Oscar wasn't dying, whatever the future held.

"Don't delay, go when you see her! Get well soon!" Manuel urged.

"Hannah," Oscar whispered.

"Yes?" she replied calmly.

"You promised me something," he said weakly but firmly.

"What?"

"You promised never to leave my side again once I woke up." Each word was an effort.

"Okay. As long as you come back safe, I—I won't leave you again."

Oscar laughed, despite his injuries.

The medical staff lifted Oscar into the helicopter. Hannah watched it fly away.

But instead of sadness, she smiled, filled with a newfound hope, despite the separation.