"Reopened her—? Damn it!"
"Please," the doctor said without looking up. "Step outside, Mr. Everest. Let us work."
He dragged a hand through his hair, exhaling a curse under his breath before stumbling backward toward the door.
In the hallway, the world felt too bright. Nurses rushed past; one of his security men stood at a respectful distance, pretending not to notice the silent fury on his face. Evans leaned against the wall, chest tight.
He pulled out his phone with trembling hands and hit the video call button. The screen lit up, showing his wife's sleepy face. Her hair was tied up messily, her eyes soft but alert the moment she saw him.
"Evans? God, you look terrible."
He let out a shaky laugh. "Thanks, honey. I needed that."
"What happened?"
"Ivy," he said simply. "She… she's not doing great. The doctor's stitching her up again. I don't even know how it happened." He swallowed hard, forcing the words past the lump in his throat.
