Grace stirred, her eyes fluttering open as she turned to him. "Dear?," she said softly, her voice filled with trust.

"I’m here," he replied, squeezing her hand gently.

However, Grace seemed to be in internal pain. John examined her as he drove towards Greenland City. "Are you really okay? I can feel that you were hurt by the gang.."

Grace furrowed her eyes and possessed a strenuous smile. "Nah... Don’t worry about it. Soon I will be adjusting to my normal."

Inventively, John listened, nodding his head as Grace spoke to him. But John came up with a medical check suggestion which he thought would be better. " I get you darling, but let’s seek some medical advice. How do you see that?"

With a deemed smile, Grace admitted. "Okay, I agree with you my love. I know how much you care about me and I promise to give back."

As John drove Grace to St. Michael’s Private Hospital, the tension of the previous hours began to fade, replaced by a quieter, more reflective anxiety.

The city lights blurred past the windows of the Rolls-Royce as they sped through the streets. John kept glancing over at Grace, whose face was pale and drawn, but she managed a reassuring smile whenever their eyes met.

"How are you holding up?" John asked, his voice a mixture of concern and tenderness.

Grace leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes momentarily. "I’m okay, just tired. But I’ll be fine once we get to the hospital," she replied, her voice soft yet firm.

John nodded, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter. "We’re almost there. Just hang on."

The entrance to St. Michael’s Private Hospital loomed ahead, a modern structure bathed in bright white lights. The hospital was renowned for its state-of-the-art facilities and top-notch medical care, a sanctuary for those in need.

As John pulled up to the entrance, an ambulance sped past them. Everyone in the hospital’s attention turned to the ambulance. There were those who sat under the mango trees in the compound.

Inside the car, Grace took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "Do you think they’ll keep me here?" she asked, a hint of worry in her tone.

"Only if they need to, but don’t worry maybe they are having another patient," John assured her. "We’ll just make sure you’re okay. Then we can head home."

They exited the car and approached the glass doors, which slid open to reveal a bustling reception area. The lobby was a blend of sleek, modern design and comforting warmth, with soft lighting and plush seating.

A large aquarium full of colourful fish provided a tranquil distraction from the otherwise clinical surroundings. Neither John nor Grace had been to this place before.

At the reception desk, a young nurse with a welcoming smile greeted them. "Good evening. How can I assist you?"

"We need to see a doctor," John said, gently supporting Grace as they approached the desk. "She was hurt by the gang attack, and we would like to seek medication check up. Basically to confirm if she got any internal injuries."

The nurse nodded, typing quickly into the computer. "Of course. We’ll get you checked in right away. Please fill out these forms," she said, handing them a clipboard with paperwork.

As John filled out the necessary information, including Grace name, age, and the medical case. Grace leaned against the counter, her eyes scanning the room.

The waiting area was filled with a mix of people—some looking anxious, others weary from long waits. A child clutched a teddy bear, her mother gently rocking her back and forth. Nearby, an elderly man dozed in his chair, his breathing steady but shallow.

Once the forms were completed, the nurse directed them to a nearby seating area. "The doctor will see you shortly," she promised with a reassuring nod.

They took a seat, and John noticed Grace’s eyes lingering on the other patients. "Looks like a busy night," she murmured, her voice filled with empathy for the others waiting.

"It always is," John replied, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "But you’ll be seen soon. I promise."

True to the nurse’s word, it wasn’t long before another nurse called Grace’s name. They were led down a corridor lined with patient rooms and diagnostic areas. The walls were adorned with calming artwork, each piece carefully chosen to provide a sense of peace amidst the hospital’s clinical environment.

The nurse led them to an examination room where a doctor awaited them. He was a tall man in his forties, with a calm demeanour and gentle eyes. "Good evening, I’m Dr. Patel," he introduced himself, shaking John’s hand firmly before turning to Grace. "Let’s see how we can help you tonight."

Grace sat on the examination table, and Dr. Patel began his assessment, asking questions about the incident and any pain she might be experiencing. His manner was efficient yet compassionate, putting Grace at ease despite the circumstances.

"We’ll run a few tests to ensure there are no internal injuries," Dr. Patel explained, noting Grace’s answers on his tablet. "An X-ray will help us get a clearer picture of any potential issues."

John watched closely, appreciating the doctor’s thoroughness. "We just want to make sure she’s alright," he said, his protective instincts still in full force.

The nurse returned to escort Grace to the radiology department, where they would conduct the X-rays. As they walked through the hospital’s corridors, the ambient sounds of beeping monitors and distant conversations created a backdrop of urgency and care.

In the radiology room, large machines hummed softly, their displays flickering with vital information. Grace was positioned carefully for the X-ray, and the technician explained each step, ensuring she was comfortable and informed.

"This will only take a few minutes," the technician assured her, adjusting the machine’s settings.

John stood outside watching with a mixture of apprehension and relief how doctors were moving steadily. He was grateful for the professionalism and efficiency of the hospital staff, knowing Grace was in capable hands.

Once the X-rays were completed and the X-rays CD card produced, Grace rejoined John, and they made their way back to the examination room. Dr. Patel reviewed the results on a monitor, his expression thoughtful as he examined the images.

"Good news," he announced after a few moments. "There are no signs of internal injury. Just some bruising and muscle strain, which is understandable given the situation."

Grace let out a sigh of relief, her tension finally easing. "Thank you, doctor," she said, her gratitude evident in her eyes.

Dr. Patel smiled, closing the file on his tablet. "We’ll give you something for the pain and some anti-inflammatory medication. With rest and care, you should recover well."

A nurse entered with a tray of medications and a syringe. "This will help with the pain," she said, administering an injection into Grace’s arm with practised ease.

Grace winced slightly but managed a grateful smile. "I feel better already," she joked, trying to lighten John’s anxiety.

John chuckled softly, his relief palpable. "You’ll be back on your feet in no time," he assured her.

The nurse handed Grace a small bottle of tablets, explaining the dosage and schedule. "If you experience any increased pain or discomfort, be sure to come back," she advised, her tone professional yet warm.

As they prepared to leave, John paused to thank Dr. Patel. "We appreciate everything you’ve done. It means a lot."

The doctor nodded, his expression understanding. "Just doing my job. Take care of yourselves." He handed them a note to take to the financial department located at the exit door.

"Hey? Doing good? The cashier at the financial office greeted them just as they stepped at the counter window. A young lady with a friendly smile.

John responded and handed over the note that included a code bill."Yep, we are quite well."

After screening the payment bill, the cashier turned her eyebrows to John and Grace. " $500 only."

Grace reacted, reaching out into her pocket" Can the NHIF card do?"

The cashier nodded. "Yes, if you have, let’s have it. Is it updated?"

As they finished the payment and handed a receipt. They exited the finance office and made their way back through the hospital, the atmosphere felt different. The tension and fear that had accompanied their arrival had dissipated, replaced by a sense of hope and healing.

Outside, the cool night air was a welcome change from the hospital’s controlled environment. John and Grace walked hand in hand to the car, their hearts lighter now that the worst seemed to be behind them.

"Thank you, John," Grace said as they settled into the car. "For everything."

As they settled into the car, John turned to Grace with a warm smile. "I’d do it all over again," he said sincerely, reaching over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

Just as he started the engine, Grace’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She frowned as she glanced at the screen, her expression suddenly turning serious.

"Who is it?" John asked, noticing the change in her demeanor.

Grace hesitated before answering, her voice tinged with worry. "It’s an unknown number. They’ve been calling me since yesterday."

John’s eyes narrowed with concern. "Let me see it."

Grace handed him the phone, and as he took it, the call ended, leaving a mysterious voicemail notification. With a deep breath, John played the message on speaker.

A distorted voice crackled through the speakers, sending a chill down their spines. "You thought you could escape us? We’re not finished with you yet."

Grace’s eyes widened in fear, and John’s grip on the steering wheel tightened, his mind racing with questions. Who were they dealing with, and what did this mean for their future?