He tenderly brushed her hair, his voice steady.

“Don't worry. You won't be alone."

He resolved to be by her side, should that day arrive.

Nicole peacefully drifted off to sleep.

Roscoe's gaze turned icy as he faced the nurse, inquiring, "Is that man still waiting outside?"

The nurse nodded, and Roscoe stepped out, holding the medical report.

The nurse, observing Roscoe's departure, suddenly sensed something was amiss.

Roscoe's tone seemed to be dripped with disdain when referring to the man waiting for Nicole.

Her recollection revealed that while Roscoe maintained an air of aloofness, he had never before addressed patients' family members in such a manner.

Exiting the operating room, Roscoe's observant eyes met Jarrod, whose forehead was lined with anxiety.

"Doctor, how is she?" Jarrod approached Roscoe, urgency lacing his voice. It was only then that Jarrod recognized the doctor's familiar countenance.

Roscoe, maintaining his professional demeanor, informed him, “The fetus didn't survive. The patient is extremely weak and shows signs of physical abuse. She's lost several fingernails..."

Jarrod's heart clenched tightly at these words.

Roscoe continued, “She has a severe stomach ulcer. She hadn't eaten properly in days, and we found soil in her stomach. If this continues, her condition will worsen."

Roscoe felt obliged to warn Jarrod about Nicole's condition, regardless of Nicole's reasons for keeping her cancer a secret.

After all, Nicole had to deal with Jarrod for some time before he managed to send Nicole's parents away.

Roscoe hoped Jarrod still had some semblance of a conscience.

Roscoe then presented a small box to Jarrod.

"She requested this be given to you before surgery."

Jarrod, looking at the dark box, felt an ominous feeling.