Forbidden Relationship (Forbidden Series #3) (Completed)

Chapter 43

I haven't seen Claudine since that day. When my brother visits, he always comes alone. I have so many questions for him, but I'm too afraid to ask.

I worry he'll think I'm being nosy. Besides, whatever I overheard from Claudine—it's between her and her husband.

While my sister organizes her papers to apply for a makeup artist position, I prepare my requirements to apply to a nearby hospital.

My brother still provides for our daily meals. But he's married now—he should focus on his own life. That's why I keep telling my sister we need to start earning our own money. He's already spent so much on us.

We also suspect he didn't have a proper church wedding with Claudine because he lacked the funds—probably because he was supporting us while we were abroad.

So to repay him, my sister and I plan to save up and give him a grand wedding. Claudine is the first woman my brother truly loved—and the first one he ever introduced to us.

One day, I go into town to search for hospitals that might be hiring emergency room nurses. I find one easily—they're short-staffed.

I immediately submit my application and the interviewer tells me they'll call me in the next few days.

On my way out of the hospital, I pass the emergency room. Outside, a mother and her child are crying, holding on to the body of the family's father.

He's badly injured—pieces of glass embedded in multiple parts of his body. He needs immediate treatment or he'll lose too much blood.

I'm about to approach to help when a man blocks my path. He's wearing a doctor's coat—but no nameplate.

"If you're not a nurse, don't go near the patient," he says coldly.

I point to myself. "I am a nurse. I just submitted my application. I trained abroad."

He raises an eyebrow, eyeing me from head to toe. "Just because you're from another country doesn’t mean you’re skilled."

"I never said I was skilled. What I'm saying—" I stop myself. Arguing won't help anyone right now. "Just treat the patient."

"There are no vacant rooms in the ER," he says flatly. "It's full. He can't be treated yet."

My eyebrows shoot up. "What do you mean? He's in critical condition. Even if there's no room, he still needs immediate attention. If he loses more blood, he might die before he's even admitted."

My voice rises slightly, drawing the attention of several people in the waiting area. The mother and child look up, hope flashing in their tear-filled eyes.

"All the doctors and nurses are busy," the man says again. "We can't prioritize two patients at once."

"That's why I want to help—because it looks like everyone is busy," I snap.

"I don't care if you're not going to hire me," I add, pointing to the man on the floor. "What matters now is saving their father."

I don't wait for permission—I step forward and kneel beside the patient.

I gently move the wife's trembling hands from her husband's wounds. Touching an open wound without protection could lead to infection.

I tie my hair up into a clean bun and look around the hallway. I can't treat him here, right at the ER door—what if someone opens it? We need a safer spot.

The male doctor approaches again, frowning. "He should be taken to the operating room."

"Are all the ORs full?" I ask quickly.