Rebirth of the Deadly Beauty

"What kind of crappy hospital is this? Where's your director? I want to see him right now! Bring out your best doctor! I'm warning you. The person lying in there isn't some average person!

"He's Simon Carter, the renowned artist from Creybia who was invited by your city to hold an art exhibition here! Who's going to be responsible if anything happens to him?" The man's furious voice traveled from the hospital room and echoed through the hospital hallways.

Yolanda was about to leave when she heard this and stopped. "Simon Carter?"

The renowned artist from Creybia who had been invited by Riverdale? She remembered taking lessons from him in her past life, but he barely said two words to her on account of her identity.

At the thought of this, Yolanda turned around and made her way to Simon's hospital room. The middle-aged man pacing in the hall frowned and glared at her as he snapped, "Get the hell out of here, kid!"

"Let me go in and take a look," Yolanda said.

The man assessed her incredulously. "You?" The more he looked at her, the less he felt like letting her through.

Hurried footsteps sounded from down the hall. A doctor in a white coat rushed toward the room and humbled himself before the middle-aged man anxiously. "How's Mr. Carter doing?" Text content © NôvelDrama.Org.

"How is he doing? Your doctors just told me they could do nothing about his case!" The middle-aged man was incensed as he demanded, "Summon your best doctor at once!"

Francesco Wyatt, the hospital director, wiped the beads of cold sweat from his brow. "But the doctors who came to examine him earlier were our best. Could we send him to Creybia instead? Perhaps we still have time."

"We're out of time, Mr. Wyatt." The nurse who left the hospital room shook her head gravely as soon as she went out. "Mr. Carter suffered an aneurysm on the way here. If we do not treat him within half an hour, he will die."

Half an hour. How was Francesco supposed to find anyone to take on the case if no doctor in the hospital could save him from whatever disease he was riddled with?

Just as they were caught in a dilemma, a crisp voice sounded from the other side of the hotel. "I can save him."

As soon as the words left her mouth, everyone in the hall turned to look at her derisively. The young lady they saw was stocky and covered in acne, and her features were marred by her blemishes. Yet, her gaze was clear, and her tone firm and confident.

"We're at a hospital, missy. You can't joke about these things," Francesco warned as he glanced at Yolanda.

She looked up and regarded Francesco imperiously. "I wasn't joking. I meant it when I said I could save him."

The crowd around her grew displeased with her words. The middle-aged man and Francesco appraised her contemptuously. One of them then demanded shrewdly, "Who are you? Didn't your family ever teach you manners?"

"I'm Yolanda Henderson," she answered in clipped tones. After she had answered the question, she walked into Simon's room.

She was better off not speaking for now, as she had irked the crowd to no end.

The doctor grabbed her arm and pulled her away from the door. "What? You're the good-for-nothing child the Hendersons sent to the juvenile detention center! Didn't you just come out of the juvenile

detention center after spending three years there?"

Scoffing, he continued, "Yet you claim to have a way to save Mr. Carter."

Yolanda repeated impatiently and snapped, "Don't make me say it again, but yes, I can heal him."

Francesco and the crowd were indignant. Even the passers-by took one look at Yoladna and sneered, "How is it that the Hendersons have such an ugly piece of trash? It's one thing for her to skip school, but to go out of the house and embarrass her family like this is ridiculous!"

"She doesn't look like she knows medicine," someone commented.

Someone else snorted. "What medical skills can a woman who just got out of the juvenile detention center have? She could have walked away and spared her family from the embarrassment."

The disparaging remarks carried on. Yolanda looked up slowly at the chief and bit out the words icily, "You don't believe me?"

Someone laughed. "No one does! Who in their right mind would vouch for you or believe in you? Go away and stop holding back the doctor from saving lives!"

"Are you so oblivious that you don't even know you're trash, Yolanda? Did you come to take revenge upon society? Scumbags like you ought to rot away in prison forever!"

Yolanda listened to the scathing words and smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. "Fine, then. If none of you believe I can save the man, I'll just abandon him. But I've never been one to tolerate such insults. I'll show you what being a doctor is all about!"

With that, she shoved the doctor away from the door and opened it. She then slammed it shut and locked it from the inside, her movements too swift for Francesco or anyone to respond in time.

When they realized what she had done, it was too late. She was already inside Simon's room.

"What is she going to do?"

"Quick, get the door open! Mr. Carter is in there. If Yolanda hurts him…"

"Yolanda, I'm warning you! That man is one of the greatest artists who specializes in traditional paintings! If anything happens to him, I'll make you pay for it!"

A minute went by, and another. Yet, no sound or movement came from the room.

Francesco and the bodyguards tried to knock the door down as they cursed Yolanda countless times through the ordeal.

At that moment, the door opened with a whoosh, and Yolanda walked out of the room.

"What did you do to Mr. Carter? I swear, the hospital will make you pay if anything happens to him!" Francesco barreled into the room when Yolanda came out. He let out a breath of relief when he saw Simon lying peacefully on the bed, just as they had left him.

After that, Francesco wiped the sweat from his brows and suddenly recalled something. He hurried out of the room and hollered, "Don't let her get away! Get her!"

But when the bodyguards looked around for Yolanda, they realized she had disappeared. They exchanged confused looks as they asked among themselves, "Where did she go? Where is she?"

Yolanda had vanished right under their noses!

Francesco's face turned grim as he snapped anxiously at the guards, "Split up and look for her! We must hold her responsible if anything happens to Mr. Carter!"

Despite his orders, he was relieved when he glanced behind his shoulder at Simon. Ugly and foolish as Yolanda was, he was grateful she had appeared.

After all, Simon had been beyond saving when the hospital checked him in as a patient. It would reflect poorly on the hospital if he had died in their care. The Carter family would hold the hospital responsible and pin the blame on Francesco.

But Yolanda had shown up in a clutch and offered herself as a scapegoat. If Simon died in their care, Francesco could blame her for his death if and when the Carter family demanded reparations. The hospital's reputation would be safe.

Just as Francesco was considering each detail of his plan, a relieved cry sounded from the room. The middle-aged man shouted, "Mr. Carter? Mr. Carter, you're awake! I need a doctor in here, pronto!"

Francesco froze. Simon couldn't possibly have awakened! If his condition upon arriving at the hospital was any indication, he would have died an unconscious man!

The next second, the flustered hospital director barged into the hospital room. He gave Simon a thorough examination and stared at the artist in disbelief. Even his breathing had grown steady.

Francesco's mind went blank as he muttered, "How is this possible?"

The nurses and bodyguards were startled to see Simon awake and lucid. They didn't want to consider the possibility that the ugly young woman who had stormed into the room earlier actually cured Simon.