The temperature dropped in the second half of the night, and Elisa was shivering all over, curled up in a ball on the ground.
In addition to the cold, there was also pain. Her stomach pain had flared up again. She breathed into her palm to warm up a little before clutching her stomach, but this ultimately could not stop the pain.
Only medicine could help, but her medicine was in the drawer inside. Elisa tried to undo the handcuff on her left hand, but not only did she fail to undo it, she also scraped her wrist red.
Elisa looked inside, pursed her lips, then took out an egg from her coat pocket.
Fortunately, this time she had prepared a boiled egg in advance, so she wouldn’t have to chew tissue paper to fill her stomach like last time.
She cracked the eggshell with one hand, slowly peeled it open and ate it bit by bit. People with stomach problems generally should not eat egg yolks as it can easily cause acid reflux, but she had no choice.
The egg yolk was dry and a bit difficult to swallow. Elisa wanted water. Her eyes stared dead at the bathroom, full of longing.
Last time she almost starved to death, would she die directly of thirst this time?
Elisa let out a bitter laugh. Hamish was very creative in tormenting her, never repeating himself.
She licked her dry lips, put the half-eaten egg aside, and looked up at the window. The stars in the sky had disappeared, and a layer of mist had formed on the glass. It was raining.
A glimmer of hope flashed in Elisa’s pitch-black eyes. She struggled to sit up and pushed open a window with her right hand. The window opened, but her arm wasn’t long enough to touch the rain outside, let alone drink it.
Suddenly she felt wetness in her throat. Blood flowed from the corner of Elisa’s mouth. She covered her mouth with her hand, the long-endured blood spewed out in a dark red color.
Her pale complexion showed extreme pain. Elisa could not suppress the urge to vomit blood. Her body crawled on the ground, her left hand hung stiffly on the railing, pulling her whole body.
Elisa collapsed limply on the ground, her hair spread all over the place, covering her face. She looked through the gap at the drawer less than five meters away, which contained her lifesaving medicine.
A hoarse muffled moan came from her throat, and her stomach throbbed with intermittent pain. The pain seemed to flow through her blood to her heart, as if someone was squeezing it tightly.
Elisa shakily raised her right hand, her face livid. A boundless despair enveloped her, and tears blurred her vision. Her pupils gradually lost focus over time.
At this point, Elisa was already in a semi-comatose state. Her weak and feeble body lay limp on the balcony, with a pool of blood under her face. Her hands and legs were full of scratches and puncture wounds, which looked particularly striking on her fair skin.
The window was half open, and the cold wind mixed with fine rain blew in and fell on her. It was very cold. She was already afraid of the cold, and now she was dressed lightly. She struggled to stay conscious, but she didn’t even have the strength to blink her eyelashes.
Elisa woke up in the hospital. Before she could come to her senses, she heard the person next to her hurriedly ring the bell and then run to the door.
“Dr. Baker, Miss Powell is awake.”
Upon hearing “Dr. Baker”, Elisa knew that she had been saved by Micah again this time.
“How do you feel? Does it still hurt?” Micah walked around the bed and looked at Elisa lying in bed.
Elisa looked at him in confusion, and croaked, “It doesn’t hurt, but it feels uncomfortable. My body is very heavy and I want to exert myself but I can’t.”
As a doctor, Micah knew what was wrong with her and what she needed. He quickly took a cup of water and helped Elisa sit up to let her drink.
Elisa’s throat felt uncomfortably dry. After gulping down a whole cup, she finally felt better.
“Do you want more?” Micah asked, looking at the empty cup.
Elisa weakly shook her head.
Micah put down the cup and raised the bed so she could lean against the back. “I’ll order you some porridge. Eat something when it comes.”
Elisa seemed to be lost in thought as she looked out the window. It took her quite a while to respond to Micah, “Okay.”
Micah made a call to hand over his work to others, then sat by Elisa’s bed to keep her company.
Elisa had regained her senses by now. Seeing Micah sitting by her bedside, she felt very guilty. “Micah, go about your business. I’ll be fine by myself.”
“I don’t have to work today. Let me keep you company and chat for a while. You’ve been holding it in ever since your father died. You’re clearly heartbroken but you don’t talk about it. If you keep it bottled up like this, sooner or later you’ll make yourself sick.”
Micah wanted her to open up, but she really didn’t know what to say. She looked out the window and barely managed to ask in a hoarse voice, “How did you know I was in trouble?”
“You were supposed to come to the hospital for a checkup today.”
Reminded by Micah, Elisa remembered that the hospital had asked her to come at least once a month for a stomach exam.
“I forgot.”
“I guessed so,” said Micah. “I called you many times but no one picked up. Recalling the paper pulp washed out of your stomach last time, I was worried the same thing might happen again. So I went to North Bankshire to find you, and found you like that.”
“Hamish is a bastard! Just a dog that can’t stop eating shit.”
Micah would never forget the scene when he broke into Elisa’s house.
Elisa was curled up on the floor, icy cold. Her left hand was cuffed and hanging from the railing, one hand bruised blue, her wrist scraped and bleeding.
There was blood all over the floor, along with blood-smeared glass. Just seeing these things, he knew what had happened.
At that time Elisa was barely breathing, her whole body as cold as ice, so pitiful. He didn’t know how Hamish could be so cruel.
Fortunately he found Elisa in time and took her to the hospital. Her left arm was injured from the pull. If he had been a little later, her whole arm might have been dislocated from the hanging.
And her stomach – the cancer cells had spread even faster than before. Forget two years, she probably wouldn’t last one year now.
“Thank you again for saving me,” said Elisa, looking at her bandaged right hand.