Chapter 753: Turn Vegetative

"Have you called Manuel?" Susan asked.

Justine replied firmly, "Yes, but I don't think he'll come."

Susan nodded. She understood Manuel's current attitude perfectly. Relationships often become fragile after disagreements. Despite a past infatuation with Henry, Susan had become deeply involved with Manuel; the feeling had been mutual. Now, it was up to Manuel to decide if he still held any affection for her.

"You and Manuel aren't a good match anymore," Justine said firmly, attempting to alleviate her own guilt. Manuel should have considered Susan's feelings after their breakup, so Justine didn't want Susan to blame him for not visiting.

Susan nodded again. Justine was right; they weren't compatible.

The emergency room door swung open. Susan's heart leaped. Seeing the weary surgeon emerge, she flinched, her gaze fixed on his face.

Justine approached nervously. "Doctor, how is Edward?"

The surgeon sighed deeply. Susan nearly fainted, fearing the worst.

"Fortunately, he's breathing again, though still unconscious," the surgeon explained. "However, he suffered more than blood loss; he also had a cerebral hemorrhage. We suspect an intracranial hematoma. Following the craniotomy, he remains unconscious. The hemorrhage may have caused brain damage, possibly leading to a vegetative state."

Susan desperately hoped this was a cruel illusion, not the harsh reality of her father's possible descent into a permanent vegetative state. How could this be?

The prospect of Edward remaining indefinitely unresponsive felt like a nightmare to Justine. Despite Edward's poor condition upon arrival, she’d believed the advanced medical technology at Northfield's best hospital would ensure his recovery. She never anticipated this outcome. A wave of grief washed over her.

Even though she'd married Edward to conceal her identity and survive with Manuel, decades of life together had fostered a deep affection. The news was devastating.

Turning to Susan, pale and slumped in her wheelchair, Justine saw the struggle to accept this reality reflected in her face.

"Is it curable?" Justine asked.

"Miracles do happen," the surgeon replied. "Some remain in a vegetative state indefinitely, but others unexpectedly wake up. Don't lose hope; we've seen it happen."

"So we just leave it to fate?" Justine asked, desperately seeking a medical solution.

The surgeon shook his head. "We can only pray for a miracle, but we'll explore every possibility to wake him."

Speechless, Justine knew the surgeon could only offer comfort.

Edward was wheeled out, his face ghastly pale. Justine called his name, but received no response.

Susan finally mustered the strength to approach her father, who was breathing, but his eyes remained closed.

"Dad?" she whispered. "Dad, wake up! Dad!"

Overwhelmed with grief, Susan repeated his name numbly. Justine, despite past annoyance with Susan, felt an overwhelming wave of sympathy. "We need to take him to the ward," she said gently. "The doctor said miracles can happen. He might wake up any second."

Tears streamed down Susan's face. All she wanted was for her father to open his eyes. What if none of this had ever happened?

They followed the medical team to the ward. After setting up the equipment, they left Susan and Justine alone.

Susan stared at her father. This was the first time she'd seen him so vulnerable. He'd always been strong, but now he lay defeated, possibly never to awaken.

Tears flowed uncontrollably. Her heart felt shattered; words failed to express her pain. She could only sob.

Driven by empathy, Justine tried to comfort her. "Susan, crying won't help. Try talking to your dad. I've seen it work."

Susan's tear-filled gaze seemed disbelieving.

"I know it hurts," Justine continued sincerely, "but imagine your dad seeing your agony. It would sadden him. He did so much for you; he wouldn't risk his life only to see you suffer. He'd want you to live your life. Whether he wakes up or not shouldn't stop you. You need to keep going! That's what he'd want."

Susan, though touched by Justine's kindness, remained inconsolable at the sight of her unconscious father.

"Susan, with your father like this, you're on your own," Justine said seriously, her worry evident. Susan had never been independent.

"That's all I can say," Justine said, deciding to give Susan space. Most people needed time to cope with such a situation.

Justine was less composed than she showed. Edward's condition was horrific, but she was better at concealing her pain than Susan.