“Yes, yes, I'll head over right now! How is Vivica? Is her life in danger?”
Once again, Quintina cut him off. She was in such a hurry that she was already asking her department head for time off before the call even ended.
“Her life isn't in danger. She was lucky. She has a cut on her forehead that's being stitched up. We're waiting on other tests to see if there are any other injuries, but she's conscious.”
“Okay, I got permission from my boss. I'm on my way now.” Quintina was a woman of action.
“Alright, contact me when you get here.”
Before he even hung up, Harvey saw Vivica being wheeled out and immediately walked over.
“Vivica, how are you feeling?” Harvey asked with concern.
Vivica was groggy with pain, her eyes red and her eyelashes damp with tears. “I'm okay…” she managed to say, her voice trembling slightly.
The last time she'd experienced the pain of stitches was when they were repairing a tear after childbirth.
The doctor had said she'd been given an anesthetic, but for some reason, she hadn't felt its effects at all.
The pain of the stitches had been even worse than labor.
And today, with the three stitches on her forehead, it felt like they were sewing her up without any anesthetic, either because the dose was too low or because she genuinely had a high tolerance to it.
Pain! It was excruciating! Tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.
Hearing the tremor in her voice and seeing she'd clearly been crying, Harvey looked up at the medical staff. “Did you stitch her up without anesthetic?”
“We did, but the patient said—”
The doctor was about to explain when Vivica cut in, “It's not the doctor's fault. I just have a high tolerance to anesthetics.”
Harvey fell silent, unable to argue. He could only comfort her. “Joseph is at the airport; he'll be back a little after four. I called Quintina, and she's on her way to stay with you.”
“Okay. Thank you, Harvey…”
“Don't mention it.”
Harvey accompanied her to her exams. An abdominal ultrasound showed no signs of internal bleeding, which was a relief.
A CT scan of her head also came back clear.
However, Vivica kept complaining of dizziness, and combined with the wound on her forehead, the doctor diagnosed a concussion, requiring a few days of bed rest.
She had just been settled into her room when Quintina burst in.
“Vivica, are you okay? I about had a heart attack when Dr. Murphy called.”
Vivica managed a smile, about to say she was fine, but Quintina spoke again. “I was just in a local group chat and saw a video of a car crash. I clicked on it and recognized your car immediately!”
Harvey, standing nearby, raised a hand to quiet her. “Dr. Christie, please calm down. She has a concussion and needs to rest.”

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