"Meredith, you misunderstood. I'm doing this for you—if he finds out after he's recovered, he might get triggered again. Better he's here in the hospital where they can treat him right away, isn't that safer?" Her coquettish tone was like a knife that pierced through me.
"Shut up!" I snapped.
Doctors and nurses rushed in, checked my brother, and spoke gravely. "The patient is in critical condition. We recommend a heart transplant within three days—otherwise it's very dangerous."
As they hurried him back to the ICU, my heart dropped into an even darker place. Hillary blinked, feigning concern. "Oh dear, did I say the wrong thing? Wouldn't that mean your family... might have to hold two funerals in a row?"
I whirled around and reached to slap her, but before it could land, my hand was yanked and held tight from behind.
"Hillary isn't a doctor—she doesn't know how to talk to patients. All she ever does is act; If you can't help with your hands, then use your head!" Tristan's voice landed like ice.
"Tristan, I should've listened to you and not run around... I made Meredith angry again." Hillary instantly put on a frightened act and hid behind Tristan.