Inside the hospital, Jamison was surrounded by colleagues–hardly the place to speak too openly. He kept his words vague, sticking to essentials. “Just make your point and leave it at that. Don’t leave any evidence behind. And try to avoid crowded spots for the next few days. If there’s nothing urgent at the university, just stay home.”
“Alright, don’t worry, I’ll be careful.”
He paused, lowering his voice. “Also, I asked around about Adkins’ condition. He has a serious heart valve defect with arrhythmia. He’ll need a valve replacement and a pacemaker. Both are major cardiac surgeries, and he needs them done together. That means the cardiac surgery, cardiology, and electrophysiology teams all have to coordinate. The cost is enormous, but most importantly, only two hospitals in Neo Haven can handle a surgery like this. Ours is one of them.”
Ivy didn’t understand all the medical jargon, but she could tell–just from Jamison’s tone and the gravity of the words–that this was a dire, complicated case.
“No wonder they’d swallow their pride and come to us,” she murmured, realization dawning.
“Exactly. Still, it’s not something that’s going to kill him overnight. He’s still in the hospital, and they haven’t even paid his bills. The Windsor family really is out of money.”
“Got it. I’ll let you get back to work.”
Just as Ivy was about to hang up, Jamison remembered something else. “Oh, by the way, Micah was moved out of the ICU this morning, but he still hasn’t regained consciousness.”
That made Ivy frown. “What do you mean? Is he in a coma? Like, permanently?”
“If he doesn’t wake up within the month, then yeah–clinically, he’ll be considered in a persistent vegetative state.”
“And your sister?”
“She cried again, but…she’s starting to accept it. After all this time, the sharpest pain has dulled.”
Ivy could understand Carla’s agony. From a mother’s perspective, that kind of pain never really heals.
Thinking of that once optimistic, radiant boy–now reduced to this–left Ivy sighing with sorrow.
A couple of days earlier, Jamison had submitted new evidence against the Carter family, and just as expected, it landed them in another firestorm.
The Carters had already been hemorrhaging money; the company was barely holding on.
Now, with the latest scandal, their stock price kept dropping. Langston Carter was in a panic and reached out to Jamison in desperation.
Jamison didn’t mince words–he threw down evidence showing the Carters had tried to go after his own wife, leaving Langston speechless.
It wasn’t until Langston confronted Sheridan that he discovered the truth: his son and Emma had secretly conspired, paying off someone to frame Ivy.
Langston flew into a rage, ordering both Sheridan and Emma placed under house arrest, strictly forbidding any outside contact.
Their only interaction with others was when someone brought food or water–nothing else.
But Sheridan’s kidney failure meant he needed dialysis three times a week. His health was deteriorating so quickly he could barely walk without help.
His arms were riddled with the needle marks left by dialysis. No one wanted to get too close to him–except Emma, who was left to care for him.
Somehow, the balance of power between the two shifted.
Sheridan, once so domineering, now was a paper tiger. Even when he tried to lash out at Emma, the old ferocity was gone.
Meanwhile, Emma’s belly was starting to show. The worst of her morning sickness had passed, and she actually seemed livelier–sometimes exasperating Sheridan to the point of fury, though there was nothing he could do about it.
One day, Emma accompanied Sheridan to the hospital for dialysis and ran into Baillie.
She hadn’t seen her family in days; the sight of Baillie stirred something in her. She hated the Windsors, but seeing Baillie brought a rush of emotion–tears nearly welled up.
Sheridan’s dialysis session would take over four hours.
Once he was settled on the bed, Emma left the treatment room.
Baillie was waiting for her in the hallway.
“You came just to see me?” Emma stopped a few paces away, hesitant.
Baillie nodded, his eyes dropping to her slightly rounded stomach. He frowned. “You really plan on having this baby?”
“What else can I do? Without this child, I’d be in prison by now.” She gave a bitter, self-deprecating laugh, her expression flat.
Baillie said nothing, his face clouded with gloom.
Emma studied him for a moment, then spoke up. “So, what do you want from me? Look at me–I’m like a pariah. Everyone avoids me like the plague.”
Baillie looked up, his tone heavy. “Dad’s seriously ill. His life is at risk, and we can’t afford his treatment anymore. He wants to see you and Ivy. No matter what’s happened, we’re still family. Maybe you could come home, just once.”
Emma’s face froze, her eyes searching Baillie’s. “Ivy agreed to come back?”
“No. I’m still working on convincing her.”
Emma’s reaction was unsurprised. She scoffed, “She’s been done with the Windsor family for ages. She’d probably be glad if you all dropped dead–why would she visit Dad?”
Baillie replied quietly, “No matter what’s happened, he’s dying. What’s the point in holding onto old grudges?”
Emma’s laugh was cold. “I’m not going back. I’m sick enough as it is–I don’t need to drag you all down with me.”
Baillie’s irritation was obvious, his voice rising. “Emma, the Windsors raised you. How can you be so heartless?”
“Oh, don’t play the martyr. You raised Ivy too, and she’s not lifting a finger to help. Besides, you didn’t take me in out of kindness–you just wanted to use me. Don’t act so noble.”
Emma didn’t even bother to pretend anymore; the mask was gone, and she didn’t care.
Chapter 49
She thought they’d all been fools–falling for her lies for so long.
“If there’s nothing else, I’m leaving. Don’t come looking for me again.” Without another glance, Emma turned and walked away.
Baillie watched her go, a cold fury flickering behind his eyes.
He’d tried to hold onto some shred of kindness–for the sake of twenty-odd years of family, even if there was no blood between them. For a long time, he’d thought he couldn’t bring himself to do anything harsh.
Now, he wasn’t so sure.