None of the doctors present expected the “removal of the uterus” to be suggested by the patient herself.
However, it was undoubtedly the best treatment option, but removing the uterus meant losing the ability to become a mother.
“Are you sure? We need to inform your family before we can proceed with the surgical agreement.”
“I have no family,” Hattie said with difficulty. Her parents had long passed away, and her household registration listed only her name.
She used to have some connection with Harry. She was adopted by the Stewart family, and Harry was her nominal brother. But it was merely nominal, and he couldn’t be considered her guardian. Their relationship was severed directly after she was imprisoned.
Being an adult, she could take responsibility for her own surgery and sign the consent form.
After discussing it, the doctors decided to give Harry a call, but no one answered. They tried calling five times in a row, but to no avail.
Hattie’s matter couldn’t be delayed, and since the person involved insisted on taking responsibility, they had no choice but to have her sign the consent form.
Summoning her strength, Hattie, who had just been gasping for breath, managed to raise her hand. She felt a force coming from her hand, as if someone was holding it tightly and helping her grip the pen. She signed her surgical consent form on the operating table, authorizing the removal of her uterus, and sealed it with her signature and fingerprints. As she finished the last stroke of the pen, it fell down.
A strange but satisfied smile appeared on her face.
Look, she also had the power to decide her own life. After this surgery, she would no longer worry about conceiving Harry’s child.
Half an hour later, the anesthesia took effect, and Hattie peacefully closed her eyes. The pain was gone, how wonderful.
This was the outcome she desired most, but for some reason, tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. Perhaps it was because she remembered a long time ago when she also had dreams of being a good mother, like most ordinary girls, thinking about having a son or a daughter, deciding on their names, how to raise a boy, how to care for a girl. She particularly liked the idea of having a daughter and imagined buying her many beautiful dresses, especially traditional Chinese attire, and taking mother-daughter pictures together.
But now, it was all gone… Hattie lightly curved her lips. One must learn to make choices. Oh well, let it be.
Meanwhile, what was Harry doing at this moment? He had sent someone to find Fiona and bring her to the basement. Mrs. Thompson was also captured along with her.
Mrs. Thompson had long been mentally shattered from the torment. When she saw Fiona, her face was covered in snot and tears, pleading for Fiona to save her, claiming that it was Fiona who provided the money for her to do all this.
Mrs. Thompson’s mind had become somewhat deranged, attracting all the attention she could. Fiona had initially harbored a glimmer of hope, but upon hearing Mrs. Thompson’s words, she wished she could just grab a pair of scissors and cut off Mrs. Thompson’s tongue.
Harry looked at Fiona with a sinister and icy gaze, though a strange smile played at the corners of his mouth.
Fiona was frightened into silence and instinctively stepped back, only to be blocked by the bodyguard behind her.
“Har… Harry, it’s not my fault. I didn’t know Hattie had a miscarriage… It has nothing to do with me.” She made one last desperate attempt, wearing a pitiful expression, trying to evoke a protective instinct in the man before her, hoping he would let go of his suspicions.
In the past, no matter how dire the situation was, Harry would never dwell on it when she made such an expression. But she had overestimated her position in Harry’s heart.
Harry was inherently selfish, always seeking personal gain in everything he did. He was well aware of what kind of person Fiona was, and in the past, he had turned a blind eye to her actions because she hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary or harmed his interests.
But this time, it involved the life of a child, and besides the child, he had uncovered many unexpected things.
“Mrs. Thompson has already admitted to putting the medicine in the soup. You paid her to do it and drug Hattie,” Harry’s tone remained flat, his gaze fixed on her as if she were a dead person.
Fiona wanted to deny it, but Harry saw through her thoughts with one glance. “I’ve already found the transaction records, not just for this drugging… Fiona, shouldn’t I have a proper explanation about what happened to Hattie in prison?”
Fiona’s pupils dilated suddenly, her heartbeat accelerated, and it felt like a lump in her throat was blocking her breath. Her well-disguised face gradually crumbled.
Her obvious change did not escape Harry’s eyes.
Fiona’s legs went weak, and she collapsed directly to the ground. Harry’s serpent-like gaze fell upon her, and he stood up, taking measured steps towards her, forcefully grasping her chin, and lifting her head. “Fiona, you know, I detest being deceived by others the most.”
“I… I didn’t…”
Harry held Fiona’s chin tightly, the force as if he wanted to crush that piece of bone. Fiona was too frightened to utter a sound, her slightly parted lips trembling and her teeth clattering against each other.
She knew that no matter how many clever arguments she made now, they would be meaningless. Harry’s gaze was murderous, and he might truly want to kill her now.
Harry wouldn’t have come to such a conclusion unless he was certain of what she had done. He had brought her here, apprehended Mrs. Thompson, and forced her to explain the things that happened to Hattie after her imprisonment. That could only mean he knew everything.