The nurse glanced at him and said, “You may.”
After all, Timothy was immediate family; he could take responsibility. If an outsider signed and something went wrong, the hospital couldn’t bear that liability.
She handed the consent form to Timothy. As he took the pen and prepared to sign, the butler raised his hand as if to object, but let it drop. If he stopped Timothy from signing in front of the nurse, there truly would be no one else to do it.
Even if he called Vince, Vince wouldn’t be able to get here in time.
Timothy signed his name, and the nurse went back inside.
The butler stepped aside.
Timothy remained standing at the door to the operating room.
Regardless of his relationship with Jessica, Larkin was ill, and as soon as Timothy heard, he knew he had to come. Besides, Jessica was still Larkin’s granddaughter; he couldn’t just walk away.
The butler called Vince.
“Mr. Zimmerman, sir had a bad fall today and lost consciousness. He was brought to the hospital, and the doctors diagnosed a brain hemorrhage. They need to do a minimally invasive procedure, but there’s no one here to sign the surgical consent.”
“How did this happen?” Vince’s voice was tight. “Let me speak to the doctor—I’ll give my consent over the phone. Whatever happens, the surgery comes first.”
The butler lowered his voice. “President Lawson happened to visit the Zimmerman home today. He ran into me, learned what happened, and followed me to the hospital. He just signed the consent form.”
Vince’s brow furrowed deeply. Still, he had no grounds to object; after all, none of the family were home.
This couldn’t go on. Grandpa was getting older—someone needed to be at home with him.
“Alright. I understand. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
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