"It's nothing. I just zoned out for a second."
Seeing Serena snap back to attention, Maya puffed up her cheeks and continued angrily.
"I just had a huge argument with Fiona and told her to get lost. There are more wounded here than we can handle. Who has time to take care of Amy and her dramatic little illness?"
Serena bent over and used a pair of scissors to cut open the wounded man's clothing while turning her head slightly to talk to Maya.
"You're right. The wounded here are far more urgent. Looks like our little Maya has grown up."
Just as she finished speaking, the tent flap was suddenly thrown open.
Logan stood at the entrance with a dark expression. His face looked grim as he glanced at Serena standing there, stunned, his brows tightening as he spoke in a cold voice.
"I told Fiona to come get you. Didn't you hear? Amy isn't feeling well. Go take a look right now."
Six months of pregnancy made Serena slow to rise. She supported her lower back as she straightened and looked at Logan.
"Logan, there's still a patient here waiting to be stitched up. As a doctor, you should know his condition is more urgent."
"I want you to go now." Logan stepped forward, his shadow falling over her. "Amy can't wait."
The tent fell silent before Maya couldn't help speaking up.
"Dr. Lockwood, Serena is coughing up blood and she's pregnant. Can't you just—"
Logan cut her off, his gaze settling on Serena.
"Serena, are you going or not?"
Serena lifted her head and met his eyes. A wave of exhaustion washed over her. She looked at Logan's face for a long moment before letting out a quiet, helpless sigh.
"Let me finish with this patient. Fifteen minutes at most. If Amy can't wait that long, then there's nothing I can do."
Logan stared at Serena's ashen face for a full ten seconds. In the end, he said nothing. He turned, threw open the tent flap, and stormed out as if venting his frustration, the canvas rattling loudly behind him.
Maya was shaking with anger.
"How can he treat you like this? You're his wife!"
Serena didn't respond. She put her gloves back on and spoke to the soldier.
"This might hurt a little. Hang in there."
Fifteen minutes later, the wound was finally stitched. After giving the necessary instructions, Serena supported her back and slowly stood up.
Her pregnant belly felt heavy, and waves of soreness pulsed through her lower back. She stood still for a few seconds, waiting for the dizziness from standing up to pass before turning back to Maya.
"I'm going to check on Ms. Bennett. Maya, I'll leave things here to you."
"Serena, maybe you should rest for a bit first—"
Before Maya could finish, Serena had already lifted the flap and walked out.
The sandstorm outside had grown even stronger, making it almost impossible to keep one's eyes open.
Serena walked slowly. Six months of pregnancy already weighed heavily on her body, and with days of exhaustion and the persistent coughing up blood, she had to stop and catch her breath every few steps.
Another wave of coughing surged up. She grabbed onto a tent pole and bent forward, waiting for the violent coughing fit to pass. The metallic sweetness of blood spread in her throat. When she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, she saw red staining it again.
The walk usually took five minutes. Today, after nearly twenty minutes, she hadn't even made it halfway.
Sand filled her nose and mouth, making her cough even harder. She had to hide behind a broken wall to shield herself from the wind, clutching her chest as she gasped for breath. Her lungs burned with pain. When another gust hit, Serena coughed so violently she had to crouch down, taking a long time before she could steady herself.
By the time she finally reached Amy's tent, stopping and starting along the way, more than forty minutes had passed. As she lifted the flap, Logan stood there with a dark expression.
"Why did it take you so long?"
Serena said nothing and walked past him into the tent.
The tent was overly warm, a charcoal brazier burning brightly. It felt like a completely different world from the storm outside.
Amy reclined against thick cashmere cushions with a camel-hair blanket draped over her. On the small table beside her sat a white porcelain stew bowl still steaming, the sweet scent of nutritional food filling the tent.
Serena glanced at it and frowned.
Serena recognized it. It was the nutritional food her mother had sent to support her pregnancy, with a letter reminding her to simmer one bowl every day to nourish her body.
She had been reluctant to use it, simmering it only once every three days. Each time she drank just half a bowl and saved the rest to reheat the next day. She had never expected Logan to simply give it to Amy.
A trace of resentment rose in her heart, but Serena simply lowered her eyes.
She was too exhausted to argue about something like this. The war was urgent, the wounded too many. She barely had the energy to deal with her own coughing blood, let alone get angry over a bowl of nutritional food.
She walked over to the makeshift washing station nearby and turned on the faucet.
The water was icy cold, sending a sharp chill through her hands.
She washed carefully, scrubbing between every finger until the bloodstains and medicinal smell were gone.
After finishing, she dried her hands and walked to the bedside.
"Lie down."
The examination was brief. She listened to the fetal heartbeat, pressed gently on the abdomen, and asked about symptoms. The heartbeat was steady and strong, there were no contractions, and the abdomen was soft with no tenderness.
"You're fine." Serena withdrew her hand. "Just normal pregnancy discomfort. Get some rest."
"But it really hurts," Amy said, tugging at Logan's sleeve with a softer voice. "Logan, ask Dr. Hart to check again. I heard stomach pain during pregnancy can be dangerous. What if something happens…"
Logan spoke immediately. "Serena, check again. Amy is fragile. She can't handle any complications."
Serena turned around and looked at Logan with a blank expression.
