After Annabelle Linton carved out the piece of flesh, her face instantly turned deathly pale from the pain.
But she grit her teeth against the pain, her brow furrowed. She didn't utter a single word, nor did she cry.
The three of them looked on, unable to bear the sight.
'How could a woman be this strong?'
The snake's venom was potent; the infected flesh had to be cut out completely.
Annabelle took the knife and cut again, making sure the wound was clean.
But the venom was still spreading through her veins.
A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she collapsed.
With quick reflexes, Leona Grant caught Annabelle, his voice tight with anxiety. "Annabelle, are you alright?"
ROAR—
Just then, a powerful gust of wind swept through as a helicopter circling overhead began its descent.
