A LIFE IN HIS HANDS
1317 Words
From the wound on the side of her abdomen, Alexander knew immediately that it had been caused by a knife.
His throat tightened.
Who could possibly stab someone so small and helpless?
Anger surged through him, quickly followed by frustration. The girl looked so fragile lying on the bed, barely holding on to life. It was difficult to imagine anyone deliberately hurting her.
Margaret soon returned carrying a bucket of warm water and a clean cloth.
Without wasting time, she placed the bucket beside the bed and knelt down.
"I'll clean her up, sir," she said softly.
As she reached for the girl, Alexander stopped her.
"I'll do it."
Margaret blinked in surprise.
Alexander took the cloth from her hand, dipped it into the warm water, and squeezed out the excess moisture. Carefully, he began wiping the mud from the girl's face.
The dirt came away slowly, revealing patches of pale skin beneath.
He worked gently, afraid that even the slightest pressure might hurt her.
As he cleaned her face, Margaret studied him quietly.
"Sir, you're shaking."
Alexander paused.
Only then did he realize she was right.
His hands were trembling.
Margaret folded her arms and stared at him knowingly.
Unlike most employees he had met over the years, Margaret never seemed afraid of losing her job.
She spoke her mind freely and never hesitated to point out the truth, whether people wanted to hear it or not.
Sometimes Alexander wondered where she got such courage.
Her tongue was sharp enough to challenge anyone, yet somehow she remained one of the few people he genuinely trusted.
Over the years, he had come to see her as more than a maid.
She was almost like a younger sister.
"I'm fine, Margaret," he replied.
She raised an eyebrow.
"You don't look fine."
Alexander ignored the comment.
"Go and wait by the gate. Doctor Fred should be here any minute."
Margaret remained exactly where she was.
She didn't move an inch.
Alexander sighed.
"Margaret."
"Leave her to me, sir," she said stubbornly. "I can take care of her."
Then a mischievous grin appeared on her face.
"Or are you tired of Miss Camilla's beauty? Is that why you suddenly want to see another woman's face?"
Alexander stared at her.
Sometimes he honestly wondered why he hadn't fired her years ago.
Arguing with Margaret was like arguing with a brick wall.
Completely pointless.
Yet despite her troublesome nature, she had always been there whenever he needed someone to talk to.
Especially during Camilla's endless arguments.
Shaking his head, he finally stood up.
"Be careful with her," he said seriously. "I don't think the wound reached any vital organs, but she's lost a lot of blood."
His gaze drifted toward the unconscious girl.
"She must be incredibly strong to still be alive."
Margaret laughed softly.
"I've never seen you this scared before."
Alexander offered a weak smile before leaving the room.
Despite everything happening around him, Margaret somehow managed to lighten his mood.
As he hurried upstairs to his room, another emotion settled inside him.
Guilt.
Camilla.
He still couldn't believe he had pushed her earlier.
It wasn't in his nature to hurt women.
Even though she had provoked him, he felt ashamed of losing control.
When he entered his bedroom and found it empty, relief washed over him.
At least he wouldn't have to face her immediately.
Quickly stripping off his soaked clothes, he changed into something dry.
No sooner had he finished dressing than the sound of a car horn echoed through the compound.
Doctor Fred.
Alexander rushed downstairs.
As he crossed the sitting room, he noticed Camilla sitting rigidly on the couch.
Her face was dark with anger.
She looked ready to explode.
Alexander barely glanced at her.
A life was hanging in the balance.
He would deal with Camilla later.
Outside, Doctor Fred had barely stepped out of his car when Margaret came running out of the house.
She was screaming.
Pointing frantically toward the mansion.
Her face was streaked with tears.
"What happened?" Alexander shouted.
Margaret could barely speak.
"Sir... sir... she's..."
That was all Alexander needed to hear.
His heart dropped.
Without waiting for an explanation, he sprinted back into the house with Doctor Fred close behind.
The moment they entered the room, Alexander froze.
The girl was convulsing violently on the bed.
Her body jerked uncontrollably.
Doctor Fred immediately sprang into action.
"Move back!”
He rushed forward and began working to stabilize her.
Alexander watched helplessly.
Every second felt like an hour.
The doctor remained focused, issuing instructions and checking her condition.
Margaret stood trembling near the doorway.
The room felt suffocating.
No one spoke.
No one breathed.
They simply watched.
Then suddenly—
The girl's body became still.
Completely still.
Alexander's stomach dropped.
Fear unlike anything he had ever known seized him.
He closed his eyes.
For a brief moment, he couldn't bear to look.
Margaret buried her face against his chest, shaking uncontrollably.
Instinctively, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
She was terrified.
Truthfully, so was he.
"Tell me she's not dead," Alexander whispered.
His voice sounded strange even to his own ears.
Weak.
Fragile.
For several seconds, there was only silence.
Then Doctor Fred chuckled softly.
Alexander's eyes snapped open.
The doctor was looking at him with amusement.
"I never knew you could be this fearful."
Alexander stared.
"The girl is alive."
Relief crashed through him so powerfully that his knees nearly gave way.
Doctor Fred's expression quickly turned serious.
"But she's very weak."
The relief vanished.
"We need to get her to a hospital immediately. She has lost a dangerous amount of blood."
The doctor glanced at the wound.
"This knife injury is deeper than I initially thought."
His face became thoughtful.
"Honestly, it's remarkable that she's still alive."
Alexander swallowed hard.
"Will she survive?"
Doctor Fred sighed.
"I don't know."
The answer hit him harder than he expected.
"The hospital equipment can help stabilize her, but ultimately her survival depends on how much damage has been done internally."
After a pause, the doctor added,
"You can explain where you found her later."
Alexander nodded.
His eyes returned to the girl.
Margaret had managed to clean most of the mud from her face.
Although traces of dirt still remained, her features were becoming clearer.
Alexander found himself staring.
She was beautiful.
Exceptionally beautiful.
Her skin was so pale it almost seemed unreal.
Of course, blood loss and exhaustion contributed to her appearance, but even then, there was something striking about her.
The thought lasted only a second.
This wasn't the time.
He bent down to lift her.
Doctor Fred immediately stopped him.
"I'll carry her."
The doctor carefully gathered the girl into his arms with practiced ease.
"Less movement," he explained.
Alexander nodded.
Then he turned toward Margaret.
"Go and change your clothes. You're coming with us."
Margaret didn't argue.
She ran upstairs immediately.
Although she tried to appear brave, her legs were still shaking.
The image of the girl convulsing moments ago remained burned into her memory.
She had never seen anyone so close to death before.
As Doctor Fred carried the girl through the sitting room, his gaze briefly landed on Camilla.
She remained seated exactly where she had been before.
Not once had she asked about the girl's condition.
Not once had she shown concern.
The doctor frowned.
How could someone witness another person's suffering and remain completely indifferent?
Shaking his head, he continued outside.
Alexander hurried back to his room one final time.
He grabbed his wallet, car keys, and bank cards.
Then he rushed downstairs and out of the house.
The rain had finally begun to ease, but the storm inside him had only grown stronger.
As he followed Doctor Fred toward the waiting car, one thought echoed endlessly through his mind.
Who was this girl?
And would she still be alive by morning?
- Writer
