Chapter 396 Trapped on Both Sides

Elsie slumped into her seat, drenched in cold sweat.

She’d fought her way out–only to discover she wasn’t free at all. Worse, she’d gone from having Owen’s protection to being completely alone.

As the medical truck rolled away, Wyatt seethed with rage. Hands on his hips, he kicked the vehicle’s tire.

“Damn it! They couldn’t even get this one thing right!”

Saunders Hospital was sealed off for good. There was no going back in.

Wyatt raked a hand through his hair and snapped at Jordan, “Bring me the supervisor. Now.”

The man arrived with a miserable expression, immediately launching into excuses–everything boiled down to one line: We can’t bend the rules.

Wyatt said coldly, “Fine. Let’s compromise. I won’t ask for anyone else—but I want to send in a two-way radio.”

A radio was the only device that could transmit signals inside the communication blackout zone.

The supervisor hesitated. “The higher-ups ordered total lockdown. Mr. Wyatt, that goes against protocol…”

Wyatt raised a hand. “Jordan. Get our lawyer. Have him draft a confidentiality agreement.”

The man’s face twisted in panic. He looked like he was ready to drop to his knees. “It’s not possible! Mr. Wyatt, you’re rich and powerful, but even you can’t pay the price for this!”

Wyatt’s brow creased, his patience running dry. His voice dropped. “Remember–you’ve got a wife and kids too.”

The shift in the supervisor’s face was instant–bitter, tense, stricken. He got the message loud and clear.

Ever since Wyatt’s company had gone public, he’d started cultivating a cleaner image–respectable, philanthropic, CEO material.

But no one should forget how he built his empire. When pushed, there was nothing he wouldn’t do. And the Cooper family’s PR and legal teams could sweep away whatever mess he left behind.

Wyatt took a drag from his cigarette, the red ember shrinking–like a progress bar, counting down his remaining patience.

The supervisor was sweating bullets. In the end, he couldn’t take the pressure. He muttered, “Fine.”

Wyatt bit down on the cigarette, the paper tearing between his teeth. No one saw the breath of relief he let out.

Yunice stirred.

Her fingers twitched as the effects of the sedative faded. Slowly, sensation returned to her limbs.

The office door remained locked from the outside.

Owen stood at the window, using his phone’s zoom like Yunice had earlier. He was trying to check on Elsie’s condition.

All he saw was the truck leaving–and Wyatt climbing aboard to inspect it–before it rolled away. Beyond that, he knew nothing.

He turned back to Yunice. Seeing her cold expression, he spoke gently. “You don’t have to be afraid. If Wyatt really cares about you, he’ll find another way to help you–even if you’re stuck in here.”

That was why he’d chosen to swap Yunice out.

Elsie had no one. But Yunice, even if she stayed behind, would still have protection.

Yunice snapped, “A stranger is doing everything he can to save me, while my own brother is scheming to kill me. Aren’t you ashamed?”

Owen replied, “We all do what we can with the resources we have. I could only save one. You think I wanted to leave you behind? I’m still here too, aren’t I?”

Yunice scoffed. “As if you had any way to get out yourself.”

With the sedative wearing off, she slowly got to her feet.

Owen couldn’t be trusted. If she had to die, she’d rather do it treating Mr. Gerardo than be locked in a room with him.

She staggered to the door and jiggled the handle, trying to attract attention.

But the corridors were deserted. The entire facility was under tight control. No one was coming.

When that failed, she stormed into Owen’s private office and began rummaging through his drawers.

She remembered he kept various test kits and medications on hand–especially to help Elsie practice. There had to be anesthetics and other common drugs.

She glanced at Owen. He probably thought neither of them was leaving, so he hadn’t bothered to guard anything.

Yunice tucked a small inhalable anesthetic into her clothes.

She’d already fallen for his trick once. It wouldn’t happen again.

And so, one person in the lounge, the other in the office–they remained like that from morning to nightfall.

No phones. No people. Just silence.

Time slowed to a crawl, dragging itself forward in thin, fraying threads–a kind of psychological torture.

Yunice busied herself planning treatment protocols in her head, focusing on Mr. Gerardo’s case to distract herself.

Owen, weighed down by guilt, paced the room nonstop. Every few minutes, he tried to start a conversation.

But Yunice refused to respond. As far as she was concerned, he didn’t exist.