Anna’s POV
"Daniel Davis has been at the site since the mont he was notified," I continued, my voice softening slightly.
"He secured the scene, contacted ergency services, made arrangents for the family, and kept inford every step of the way." I turned my gaze back to Inigo. "That’s the standard I expect. Not excuses about dinner etings."
My phone vibrated in my hand—Mom calling again. I declined with a swipe. knowing she was worried but unable to step away right now.
"Ms. Shaw," Rachel approached cautiously, "perhaps you should sit down. You’ve been standing for almost an hour."
I appreciated her concern but shook my head. "I’m fine." The twins shifted inside , a flutter of movent that strengthened my resolve. Even they understood we weren’t going anywhere.
"Anna," Catherine appeared at my elbow, her voice uncharacteristically gentle, "at least drink so water and eat sothing. For them." She nodded toward my belly.
I accepted the bottle she offered, taking a small sip as Lucian Cox approached.
His expression had shifted subtly—the raw hostility replaced with sothing closer to grudging respect.
My phone lit up again-Mom’s third call in ten minutes. With a sigh, I stepped away to answer.
"Annie! Are you alright? Rachel told what happened—you need to co ho right now!" Mom’s voice carried that special blend of maternal concern and command that had worked on since childhood.
"Mom, I can’t leave yet. I need to be here."
"You’re five months pregnant with twins! I don’t care what crisis is happening—your babies co first!"
I turned away from the curious eyes watching , keeping my voice low.
"My babies are fine. And right now, I need to show everyone at Shaw Corp that we don’t abandon our people when things get tough."
Five hours. The sterile double doors of the operating room remained stubbornly closed for five excruciating hours. Catherine kept trying to steer toward the waiting area chairs, but I couldn’t sit still. Even from a distance, I caught fragnts of dical terminology that made my stomach clench—"penetrating trauma" and "severe vascular damage."
When the third critical condition notice was delivered, Lucian collapsed to his knees in front of the doctor with a sound that echoed through the corridor like a gunshot. My heart felt like it had been struck by a sledgehamr, the pain radiating through my chest.
As despair settled over the waiting area, a mory fragnt suddenly surfaced in my mind.
"Wasn’t there a similar case at Murphy Hospital last year or the year before?" I grabbed Catherine’s arm, my voice quivering with urgency. "Get Dr. Mitchell here imdiately. The one who perford that surgery."
Catherine stared at blankly. "Which Dr. Mitchell? From our hospital?"
I bit back my frustration. Of course she wouldn’t know—Catherine’s interests had always revolved around social events rather than family hospital business.
Thankfully, Sean jumped in. "I know who she ans," he said, gesturing for Catherine to follow him. "Miss Murphy, let’s go."
As I watched them hurry down the corridor, hope flickered inside , quickly followed by crushing guilt.
Why hadn’t I rembered this sooner?
If I’d recalled it earlier, could Lucius have been spared so of this suffering?
They returned with Dr. Mitchell faster than I’d expected. The surgeon barely acknowledged us before being whisked away for surgical prep.
"Annie, how do you even rember things like this?" Catherine asked, standing beside with genuine amazent in her eyes.
I shook my head, self-reproach twisting in my gut. "I should have thought of it sooner. I read a case report about a similar injury years ago."
Catherine squeezed my shoulder gently, her typically mischievous eyes now filled with compassion. "We’ve done everything we can. Now we pray.
And you need to think about those babies too."
I nodded, my hand instinctively finding my rounded belly. These little ones had been remarkably well-behaved, moving briefly earlier but now seemingly quiet, as if sensing my distress.
The operating room doors closed once again, plunging us back into the purgatory of waiting. Lucian stood like a statue, his vacant eyes betraying the depth of his concern for his brother.
Sean’s phone buzzed, breaking the heavy silence. "Ms. Shaw, there’s a swarm of reporters outside," he reported after answering.
Daniel and Sean imdiately volunteered to handle the situation.
I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts. "Not a word about Lucius’s condition can be disclosed, but everything else we should address honestly."
Daniel nodded firmly. "Understood."
Catherine’s eyes suddenly sparked with renewed energy. "I’m coming too. I want to see which dia outlets have the audacity to cause trouble at a ti like this."
I reached out to restrain her, recognizing that familiar Murphy fire.
"Hold on. Let’s assess the situation before we jump in."
Daniel’s POV
The mont Sean and I stepped through the hospital doors, we were ambushed by a blinding wall of cara flashes and shouted questions.
Despite the late hour—nearly eleven at night—the entrance to hospital was surrounded by reporters and social dia personalities, their caras and phones trained directly on us like weapons.
This wasn’t random dia attention— soone had orchestrated this circus.
"Are you in charge of Paradise Valley Estates?" A man with fashionable glasses shoved a microphone in my face, his tone dripping with accusation.
"Reports say there’s been a serious accident due to Shaw Corp’s negligence. Care to comnt?"
Behind him, livestrears were already spinning their narratives, painting us as heartless capitalists who cared nothing for worker safety. The comnts scrolling across their screens called for boycotts before we’d even spoken a word.
I stepped forward, taking the microphone from Glasses Guy. "I’m Daniel Davis, project manager for Paradise Valley Estates. First, I need to correct misinformation that’s spreading online: the worker is not dead. He’s receiving the best dical care possible. Please don’t be misled by online rumors."
"Sources say no supervisors were on site when the accident happened," Glasses Guy pressed, not backing down. "Does Shaw Corp acknowledge their managent failures? Who would buy hos built by a company that disregards worker safety?"
I had to fight to keep my expression neutral. This guy wasn’t asking questions—he was making accusations disguised as inquiries.
"I completely reject your characterization," I replied, eting his gaze directly. "My office is on-site.
While the accident occurred after regular hours, security personnel were present. We had no safety managent lapses whatsoever."
I leaned closer to him, my voice sharpening. "Id like to ask this reporter’—were you present when the accident occurred? You weren’t there, yet you’re making baseless, leading statents? I stand by every word I say. Do you stand by yours?"
His confidence faltered montarily. "I —I wasn’t there, but the accident happened, didn’t it? You can’t deny that."
Sean stepped forward, his tone asured but firm. "As a journalist. your statents should be based on facts, not speculation. If we wanted to deny responsibility, why would we be standing here?’
He continued, his voice gaining strength. "After the accident, Daniel stayed at the site while I accompanied the injured worker to the hospital.
And our CEO, Anna Shaw, despite being five months pregnant with twins, ca imdiately and has remained here the entire ti."
Sean moved closer to Glasses Guy.
"You know nothing about the facts, yet you’re spreading rumors. I seriously question whether you’re actually a journalist. Can you show us your press credentials?"
The man’s face twitched, but he recovered quickly. "If your CEO has been here the whole ti, why isn’t she facing the public? Where is she?"
The livestrears imdiately joined the pile-on. "Yeah, bring out Shaw!
Otherwise, how do we know you’re not lying?" "Show us Shaw or admit you’re deceiving everyone!"
My heart sank. Anna was exhausted and in no condition to face this mob.
Sean tried to explain her condition, but Glasses Guy seized the mont.
’They’re lying!" he shouted triumphantly. "Shaw Corp doesn’t care about human lives! Paradise Valley Estates is a death trap! We should boycott everything Shaw Corp touches!"
I tried to remind everyone to lower their voices—this was a hospital, after all—but was imdiately accused of trying to silence them. Glasses Guy grew even bolder.
"Why don’t you bring your CEO out here? Because she left hours ago, right? We can’t believe a word you say.
Is the injured worker even still alive?
Companies like yours never truly care about workers. We demand justice!"
As his tirade reached fever pitch, another reporter nudged him. "Hey, wait-soone’s coming out."
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