Mrs. Yuan, who had been waiting anxiously by the door, was the first to notice the movement.
She shot up from her chair and rushed forward, her hands gripping the hospital bed's guardrail tightly, her eyes fixed on her husband's face.
Then, Song Qingya took off her mask and walked out, her face etched with exhaustion.
The hours-long surgery had drained much of her physical and mental stamina.
Right now, all she wanted to do was complete the post-op handover and make sure the patient was safely in the observation period.
Mrs. Yuan's gaze suddenly shifted from her husband to Song Qingya.
In that instant, the look in her eyes changed.
Any trace of the anxiety and gratitude that had been there before completely vanished.
It was replaced by an icy coldness.
Song Qingya faltered, her heart skipping a beat.
She froze for a second. Her eyes met Mrs. Yuan's for a fleeting moment, only to see rage roiling within them.
'When did I offend her?'
