Chapter 163

"Put-put-put—"

The sound of the tractor tore through the silent night. Michael Stone gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white. In the back, Robert Stone lay pale, his right leg twisted at an unnatural angle. Daniel River pressed hard against his cousin's wound, but blood still seeped between his fingers.

"Faster!" John Stone Sr.'s voice was hoarse, his eyes bloodshot.

At the village entrance, Elizabeth Stone paced anxiously. Little Lily rubbed her sleepy eyes, clinging to her mother's sleeve.

"Mom, when will Dad be back?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, distant shouts echoed through the darkness. Villagers came running with a stretcher. Elizabeth's legs gave way when she saw who was on it.

"Robert!"

"Don't panic, sis," Michael jumped down from the tractor. "It's his leg. We need to get him to town."

Her hands trembled as she touched her husband's face—cold to the touch. "How did this happen...?"

"It's William's fault!" John Sr. ground his teeth. "He had to drag Robert into the mountains to hunt!"

The tractor roared back to life in the darkness. William shrank into a corner, sweat still beading on his forehead. If Robert hadn't pushed him out of the way, he'd be the one lying there now.

The clinic's light glared harshly in the dark. The on-duty doctor, startled awake by frantic knocking, opened the door bleary-eyed.

"Compound fracture. Needs immediate treatment." The doctor frowned after examining the injury. "Why did you wait so long?"

Michael swallowed hard. "The mountain roads were rough."

The sharp scent of antiseptic filled the air. Robert broke out in a cold sweat from the pain but clenched his jaw, refusing to make a sound. Elizabeth's tears fell onto his hand, burning him with guilt.

"It's... fine," he forced a weak smile. "Just needs time..."

From the corner, William finally let out a pained groan. His arm was still bleeding, but no one paid him any attention.

"Now you feel the pain?" John Sr. raised his hand to strike but stopped mid-air, exhaling heavily. "You brothers..."

Outside, the first light of dawn crept over the horizon. Michael leaned against the wall, pulling out a bloodstained cigarette pack from his pocket. Robert had given him this cigarette yesterday, saying they'd share a drink after selling their mountain goods.

The cigarette trembled between his fingers, refusing to light.