Chapter 1044

Chapter 1044

Maja felt a throbbing headache as if all the events had clustered together recently, leaving her overwhelmed.

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“Where are the security guards on the ground floor? Have them team up with the police to secure all the

entrances; we can’t let these fans disturb the staff.” “We’ve informed the security. They’re holding the fort for now.

But the fans are too wild. If Wilma herself doesn’t show up, I doubt anyone’s getting home tonight.”

Maja wished Wilma could show up, too, but she was currently in critical care. Though the doctors assured them it

wasn’t life–threatening, the injury to her head needed extra attention.

The trio alternated between standing and sitting, each engulfed in anxiety.

Maja walked over to the small balcony, taking a glance at the scene below.

Frenzied fans besieged the ground floor, all here to see Wilma. Some, having heard rumors of her death, were

breaking down in tears outside the hospital. Sometimes, a celebrity was someone’s faith.

Maja massaged her forehead, contacting the hospital director to seal off the building, allowing only genuine patients

to enter.

Having arranged it all, she felt on the verge of collapse.

She glanced at Elvis, who was quietly sitting on a chair and patted his shoulder.

Elvis looked up at her, managing a wry smile.

“Apologies, the company will take artist safety more seriously next time.”

“Mr. Pennyfeather, it’s not the company’s fault. That hater was randomly chosen to interact with Wilma, and

nobody expected this to happen.”

He leaned back, a distant look in his eyes, “She’s always been resilient. She’ll be okay.”

Hearing this, combined with Wilma’s ordeal, a sting of pain shot through Maja’s heart.

No one’s life was plain sailing, at least not for those around her. Each had experienced hardships to be where they

were now.

An hour later, Wilma was finally moved out of the critical care unit.

They quickly surrounded her as the doctor removed his surgical mask.

“She’s alright, she just needed to rest for a while.”

Wilma lay on the bed, her face pale. She knew she had company; Mr. Pennyfeather, Elvis, and Zoey were there. But

the effects of anesthesia hadn’t worn off yet, leaving her unable to speak.

She felt guilty, causing everyone to worry again.

As she was wheeled back into her room, the doctor reassured her, “She’ll regain consciousness soon.”

Maja sighed in relief, sinking into a chair.

Elvis visibly relaxed while Zoey kept glancing at the wall clock.

It was already six in the evening. Wasn’t Mr. Pennyfeather supposed to meet Mr. Raymond at six?

But with Wilma in this state, Zoey didn’t feel right reminding her.

Half an hour later, Wilma slowly came around. Her eyes, red–rimmed, stared at the ceiling while Maja and Elvis’s

voices echoed in her ears.

“Wilma, how are you feeling?”

“Wilma.”

Wilma shifted her gaze, recalling the moment she was pushed off the stage. She thought she was going to die.

She felt indignant. She had just overcome the lowest point in her life, was just about to taste success, and this was

how it was going to end.

She still had to win Elvis over, and she had promised Mr. Penny feather she would make it in Hollywood.

“Wilma?”

Elvis took her hand, asking softly.

Tears welled up in Wilma’s eyes, “I’m okay.”

She gripped his hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

In the past, Elvis would have gently pried her hand away, considering it too intrusive.

But now, he remained silent, treating her as a frightened child seeking comfort.

Maja finally let out the breath she’d been holding.

Wilma tried to sit up, but Maja firmly held her down.

“Rest first.”

“Mr. Pennyfeather, can you take a picture of me first? My fans must be freaking out, and I don’t want to cause any

more trouble.”

Wilma, the youngest of the group, had her fair share of life experiences. Despite her carefree attitude, she was

thoughtful.

Even at this point, she was concerned about others.

Maja wanted to do just that but couldn’t bring herself to ask. Now that Wilma offered, she nodded.

Wilma cupped her cheeks, turning to Zoey.

“Zoey, do you have lipstick? Something light. If I look like this in the picture, the haters will use it against me.”

Zoey rummaged through her bag, applying some of her lipstick to Wilma’s lips. She dabbed a little on her cheeks as

a makeshift blush.

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Just like that, Wilma seemed to regain a measure of vitality.