Chapter 411

Evelyn Laurent crouched down, her fingertips brushing against Bianca Fairchild's icy wrist.

"Don't be afraid."

Her voice was soft yet carried undeniable strength.

Bianca's unfocused gaze gradually sharpened, her lips curving into a strained smile.

"Mmm..."

She looked down at her tightly clasped hands, her knuckles turning white.

The infirmary reeked of antiseptic.

Liam and Lucas Croix sat in the corner as medical staff bandaged their wounds. Through the layers of gauze, their eyes kept darting toward the closed operating room door.

The production crew had issued an emergency broadcast suspension.

The hurricane had devastated nearly every structure on the island. Beatrice Quincy's wooden cabin had collapsed, while Rachel Clemenson and Crystal Rothschild's tent had vanished without a trace.

Only Evelyn's group's small cabin remained standing amidst the storm.

Online discussions had exploded into chaos.

At the Quincy mansion, Mr. and Mrs. Quincy's faces paled when they received the news.

"Is Beatrice alright?"

That was their first question.

Only after confirming their daughter's safety did they remember to ask about their son's condition.

Beatrice paced outside the operating room.

"Timothy Gold!" Her voice suddenly rose. "My brother is critically injured, and you're just letting him die here?"

Timothy shot her a cold glance.

"The medical facilities on the yacht are more advanced than the mainland hospitals." His tone simmered with suppressed anger. "Do you want everyone to die by setting sail now?"

Beatrice was left speechless.

She glared at Timothy's retreating back, her nails digging deep into her palms.

When her gaze shifted to Bianca in the corner, a flash of venom crossed her eyes.

This jinx!

The operating room doors suddenly swung open.

Bianca sprang to her feet, her soaked hem dragging a wet trail across the floor.

"Doctor!"

Her voice trembled as if grasping at her last lifeline.

Beatrice also hurried forward, water droplets from her hair splattering onto the sterile floor.

Both women remained in their post-drowning disarray, neither having changed out of their wet clothes.