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Ann Vaughn stood in the center of the hospital room, her red lips pressed tightly together, trying to squeeze out the bitterness from her mouth.

She did not stay despondent for long and took out her phone from her bag to call Susie Somrs. When there was no answer, she had to switch to sending a distress text ssage instead.

She didn’t have many friends; Susie was one, and the other...

Ann Vaughn looked at Sutton Jennings’ number below, hesitated for a long ti, and then dialed the call.

Just as the call beeped twice, the hospital room door was suddenly opened by soone, startling Ann Vaughn. Instinctively, she hung up the already connected call and hid the phone behind her.

The nurse stood at the door and said to Ann Vaughn, "Miss Vaughn, please co with ."

"Where to? For what?" Ann Vaughn’s fine eyebrows knit tightly, her hand hiding the phone in the quilt as she warily looked at her.

The nurse smiled slightly, "Just a dical examination. Rest assured, we will not do anything to you."

Another examination!

Hearing those two words made the hairs on Ann Vaughn’s back stand on end. She pursed her red lips and remained motionless, "Did Cyrus Hawthorne send you?"

"Yes, and he hopes you will cooperate well, otherwise, President Hawthorne has given us the authority to not show courtesy to you."

The nurse’s voice was very gentle, yet it made Ann Vaughn’s breath pause, her fingers gripping tightly then relaxing, the palm stained with blood and flesh.

It was over an hour before this thorough and ticulous examination finally ended.

Ann Vaughn was sent back to the hospital room, one small hand covering her abdon tightly, her complexion looking terrifyingly pale.

It was as if a dagger was hanging over her head, ready to fall at any mont.

Since Cyrus Hawthorne had resorted to all ans to keep her confined here, it indicated that Cynthia Vaughn’s heart condition had seriously worsened to a point where only a heart transplant could save her.

But what she couldn’t understand was that Cynthia Vaughn had taken the Golden Needle, which at most amounted to framing her, but would she harm herself so severely as to end up in the ergency room?

A sane person wouldn’t do sothing so extre.

Cynthia Vaughn treasured her life too much to do that.

Ann Vaughn wanted to know the answer, but she could only make a judgnt by checking her pulse, yet now she couldn’t even step out of here, let alone get near Cynthia Vaughn.

Wait a minute!

Ann Vaughn’s heart pounded twice violently, and she quickly walked to the bedside, took out the phone hidden under the quilt, and upon unlocking it, saw a missed call from Sutton Jennings.

With bodyguards guarding outside the room, Ann Vaughn dared not make another call, so she drafted a ssage and sent it out.

Sutton Jennings quickly replied to her, [Leave it to , don’t worry.]

Seeing this reply, Ann Vaughn’s tense heart slightly relaxed, and fine sweat continuously dripped down her smooth, fair forehead, too busy to wipe it off.

anwhile, at Aurelia Club.

Ten minutes later, Sutton Jennings had procured the exact diagnosis report of Cynthia Vaughn and the current news that she needed a heart transplant.

Sutton Jennings was about to send the report to Ann Vaughn but suddenly paused.

Ann Vaughn had almost never asked him for help, much less connected his call only to hang up abruptly. When he called back, her phone wasn’t off, yet it wasn’t picked up either.

The gap between her sending the ssage was nearly an hour and a half, there must be so connection within.

Sutton Jennings, filled with doubt, sent the report to Ann Vaughn, then conveniently checked her current address.

Coincidentally, it was at the hospital where Cynthia Vaughn was admitted.

Sutton Jennings frowned, could it be that Ann Vaughn was the source of Cynthia Vaughn’s heart?

Perhaps feeling this idea was too far-fetched and absurd, Sutton Jennings did not plan to give it much thought.

Yet, he couldn’t resist tapping open the First Hospital’s database, and before long, a freshly printed dical report showed up on the computer screen.

The amorous eyes turned completely cold.

In the hospital room.

Ann Vaughn re-read the diagnosis report several tis, and the final results proved that Cynthia Vaughn’s condition had not only worsened but her physical abilities were also gradually deteriorating.

If a heart transplant was not done promptly, she would die.

But the saintly act of using her life to save another’s was sothing Ann Vaughn would only do if she had lost her mind.

She had to think of a way to leave this place.

But after talking to Susie Somrs, she learned that this floor had been completely controlled by Cyrus Hawthorne’s people. Without his permission, even doctors and nurses had to be extrely careful entering and exiting.

Susie had been stopped several tis, afraid of arousing attention, she had to squat behind the hospital building.

Even if Ann Vaughn could leave this floor, Susie waiting downstairs could imdiately take her away.

Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but touch the sleeve, feeling a wave of regret.

The Golden Needle and potion couldn’t be taken on a plane, so she had put them away in the taxi; her luggage and bags had also been confiscated by the bodyguards.

She wouldn’t stand a chance barehandedly against four trained bodyguards.

Cyrus Hawthorne also hadn’t appeared in this hospital room.

Ann Vaughn wanted to have a proper talk with him but couldn’t find the opportunity.

Until two seemingly calm days passed.

After two days of observing the bodyguards’ shift change pattern, Ann Vaughn sadly found no loopholes.

Her phone had long run out of battery, and although the nurse brought in magazines and newspapers to distract her, Ann Vaughn couldn’t read a word due to the unbearable inner tornt.

Into the night.

There was a rustling sound of footsteps outside the room, and for a mont it seed that everyone had left.

Ann Vaughn’s action of drinking water paused, her eyes shifted, and she moved cautiously to the door, opening a thin crack to peek outside.

The bodyguards always stationed outside the door were unexpectedly nowhere to be seen!

Ann Vaughn’s first reaction was that it was a trap, but thinking that before the heart transplant she was still safe, she threw caution to the wind, opened the door, and ran out.

She assud she would be caught the mont she left the room, but until she ran a considerable distance, no one stopped her!

Ann Vaughn’s heart pounded with anxiety, almost leaping out of her chest, and she didn’t dare pause as she dashed towards the door of the escape route!

The elevator near where Susie said was under watch; she couldn’t risk it.

A soft "click" sounded as Ann Vaughn was about to push open the door, she heard faint voices from within.

"... From Mrs. Hawthorne’s examination report, after drawing blood once, the fetus’s condition was initially not optimistic, but if you insist on using Plan A, she might not be able to conceive again."

"If we wait for her to miscarry and then proceed with the surgery, what risks are there?"

"There’s a massive possibility that neither can be saved."

"Then there should be no hesitation, do as I instructed."

A low, magnetic, indifferent voice followed, carrying with it what Ann Vaughn perceived as cold, ruthless, uncaring emotion.

"You an I shouldn’t care about the child in her womb, prioritize the surgery?"

"That is the most secure plan."

You are reading Mr. Hawthorne, Your Wife Wants a Divorce Again Chapter 157: Surgery After the Miscarriage on novel69. Use the chapter navigation above or below to continue reading the latest translated chapters.
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