In the following days, the hospital corridor became Jason’s most familiar path, and the ward became the core of his life. Every day, when the morning light first appeared and the city had not yet completely awakened from its slumber, Jason would rush out. When he stepped into the hospital, the first ray of sunlight had just begun to try to penetrate the thick clouds, casting a few faint rays of light.
Jason gently pushed open the door of the ward, moving very carefully, for fear that even the slightest sound would disturb his still sleeping father. In the ward, the faint smell of disinfectant followed him like a shadow, filling every inch of the air. His father lay quietly on the bed, his face as pale as paper, bloodless, and the heavy plaster on his leg was particularly dazzling, hanging high up, as if it were a heavy yoke.
Jason slowly walked to the bedside, bent down, gently held his father’s rough hand, and whispered, “Dad, I’m here.” Although his father was still unconscious and did not respond, Jason firmly believed that this close blood connection would allow his father to feel his company. He picked up a warm towel and gently wiped his father’s face. His movements were gentle and meticulous, and each wipe was full of affection, as if he was wiping a rare treasure, fearing that it would be damaged if he was not careful. After wiping, he carefully checked the various medical devices connected to his father, his eyes fixed on the data jumping on the instrument, not missing any subtle changes, to ensure that everything was running normally.
The caregivers hired by Jason were very responsible, but his inner uneasiness could not be dissipated, and he insisted on doing everything himself. With his rich experience, he would carefully adjust the angle of the bed, sometimes raising the head of the bed, and sometimes adjusting the inclination of the bed, just to make his father lie more comfortably. Then, he sat by the bed and patiently massaged his father’s uninjured limbs, from arms to legs, with professional and focused techniques. Every time he pressed and kneaded, he was trying to promote blood circulation and prevent muscle atrophy. While massaging, he spoke softly to his father, telling him about the outside world, interesting things in the news, or some of his own memories. He hoped that his father would wake up at some point and hear his voice.
In between taking care of his father, Jason would always be eager to take out his mobile phone and share the details of his life with Lina. He would excitedly tell Lina: “My father’s complexion looks better today than yesterday. The doctor said that he has recovered quite well.” Or he would confide in distress: “When I changed the dressing for my father today, his wound was bleeding a little. I was very worried.” Lina always listened carefully and responded and encouraged him with warm words: “Jason, you have done a great job. Uncle is blessed by heaven and will definitely get better.” Every word she said was like the warm sun that penetrated the haze in winter, shining directly into Jason’s heart, giving him the strength to continue to persevere.
Jason would also confide his fatigue and worries to Lina. He frowned and tapped his fingers quickly on the screen: “I’m really afraid that when my father wakes up, he will find it difficult to accept that I am unable to move. How can I comfort him?” Or he said anxiously: “I’m worried that I can’t take good care of my father. What if something goes wrong…” Lina would gently comfort him, her words full of trust: “Jason, believe in yourself, you are your uncle’s most solid support, everything will be fine.” The chat records of the two are full of mutual care and support, and deep love flows between the lines. They have imagined countless times in their hearts that it would be great if they could meet immediately, hug each other tightly, and confide their thoughts to each other. But Jason knew in his heart that taking care of his father was the top priority at the moment, so he could only bury this eager desire deep in his heart. At the same time, Jason did not forget to ask someone to investigate the truth of his father’s car accident. He would contact Mark and Lucy every day, eagerly asking about the progress of the investigation. Mark said on the other end of the phone: “Jason, the owner of the truck has been found, but the owner said that his car was stolen a few days ago and he had no idea about the accident. It doesn’t look like he is lying.” Lucy also made a new discovery: “After I hacked into the traffic monitoring system, I found that the driving trajectory of the truck was very abnormal before the accident. It seemed that it was deliberately waiting for the opportunity at a certain location. There must be something wrong behind it.”
These clues made Jason more and more convinced that his father’s car accident was not accidental, and there must be an ulterior motive behind it. While taking care of his father, he anxiously waited for more accurate news. Every minute and every second of waiting was like sitting on pins and needles. He urgently hoped to find out the mastermind as soon as possible, seek justice for his father, and let his father recover from his illness with peace of mind.
Days passed, and Jason was busy and determined in the hospital. In his eyes, there was both an eager expectation for his father’s recovery and a persistent search for the truth.
