The Day Our Promise Breaks (Charles and Evelyn) novel Chapter 653

Andrew’s shout, wild with ecstatic relief, shattered the heavy gloom of the lab like a lightning strike.

“Hurry! Draw the serum now! Ultra-purify it—maximum concentration! Move!” His voice shook with excitement as he summoned his team.

The assistants sprang into action without missing a beat.

Andrew took charge himself, hands steady but moving fast, drawing out the vital blood from Charles’s battered veins—veins that had barely survived heart failure and a toxic onslaught.

That blood held hope: rare antibodies, shimmering with the promise of a miracle.

Every second was precious.

The purification machines whirred at full tilt, the concentration process racing the clock.

Within minutes, Andrew was clutching a vial of potent antibody serum in his hand.

He didn’t hesitate. Sprinting down the corridor, he crashed through the door of the next treatment room.

“Now! Give this to Charlie—right now!”

…

Andrew’s arrival snapped Francis out of his hopeless daze.

Just moments earlier, Charlie’s heart monitor was barely flickering—her life hanging by a thread.

Francis had given Charles his word: he’d save Charlie. He couldn’t let her slip away now.

“Everyone, move!”

Francis’s command scattered the team around Charlie’s bed, clearing a path for Andrew.

Without pause, Andrew injected the serum straight into Charlie’s fragile vein.

The moment it entered, an invisible warmth seemed to flood Charlie’s icy, bluish skin, washing away the chill of death.

Next door, Charles—fresh from his own brush with death, his heart barely coaxed back to life—struggled to find consciousness, desperate to be near his daughter.

Francis understood. He signaled the team to wheel Charles to Charlie’s bedside.

“Charlie…”

Charles’s lips were cracked, his voice little more than a whisper, but he called her name.

His bloodshot eyes, unfocused and weary, searched for his daughter.

He couldn’t rest until he saw her through this storm.

“Charles, you did it. You saved her.”

As the words washed over him, Charles finally let go of the breath he’d been holding for so long.

His vision swam.

His eyes, locked on Andrew, slowly lost focus.

His fist, nails digging into his palm, fell open.

His body—rigid with pain and strain—went slack, collapsing like a marionette with its strings cut on the cold hospital bed.

Beep—beep—beep—

On the monitor, Charles’s newly recovered heartbeat faltered, the line weakening, blood pressure nosediving, oxygen dropping.

The alarms blared again, sharp and urgent.