She Was the Treasure All Along novel Chapter 5

Loyce ignored them. She opened her kit, took out a decompression needle, palpated the man’s chest, and began unfastening his clothes to place the needle.

Fernand stepped in front of her, blocking her hands. “He’s sweating, pale, and collapsed in this heat—classic heatstroke. Maybe complicated by a heart condition. You should be doing CPR to bring him around!”

Quiana jumped in immediately. “Exactly! Please listen to Mr. Walsh. You already fed our brother random medicine and almost poisoned him to death. Don’t hurt someone else too. You’ll be legally responsible!”

The crowd turned fast. They started pointing, whispering, blaming. Someone—one of Quiana’s friends—muttered about Loyce always ranking near the bottom on exams, and the criticism grew louder.

At the edge of the crowd, a medical team coming out of a nearby research building noticed the situation and started walking over.

Loyce’s face went icy. She grabbed Fernand’s wrist before he could start compressions. “He isn’t breathing. His trachea is deviated. This is a tension pneumothorax. He needs needle decompression. You want to do CPR? You’ll kill him.”

Being challenged in front of students made Fernand’s face tighten. Several people from the research group quickly spoke up for him, backing his diagnosis.

“Loyce, stop talking nonsense. You’re not more qualified than Mr. Walsh!”

Loyce shoved his hand away and disinfected her tools as she spoke. “Pneumothorax can also cause cold sweat, pallor, and shock. Superficially it can resemble heatstroke. The difference is tracheal position and hyperresonance. You’re incompetent.”

Her explanation was precise enough that other med students started paying closer attention to the patient’s signs.

“It… looks like she’s right,” someone said quietly.

Fernand’s expression turned ugly. He stood and stared down at her. “You’re a student in my lab who doesn’t know anything except how to file paperwork. If you can wake him up with that needle, I’ll hand you my job.”

Loyce didn’t hesitate. The moment she finished disinfecting, she placed the needle with clean, exact precision. Almost instantly, a rush of air burst through the tubing. The man—who’d stopped breathing—pulled in oxygen and came back, eyes opening as he regained consciousness.

The students erupted.

“She was right! It really was pneumothorax!”

With the outcome right in front of them, anyone with basic medical training could see Fernand had misjudged it.

Someone else added, “If Loyce hadn’t insisted and Mr. Walsh had started CPR… that would’ve been a real incident.”

Fernand forced out, “I knew it was pneumothorax.” He tried to salvage his dignity, speaking down to the students. “I was testing Loyce. She’s always lazy, so I wanted to see what she’d do.”

Loyce packed her tools and stood. Before she could speak, the man on the ground spoke first. “Using someone’s life to ‘test’ a student? Do you deserve to be a doctor? Or to teach anyone?”

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