Chapter 4

The next afternoon, Juliet’s fever finally went down, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Hernandez had hired a caregiver in the morning and brought over hot porridge, and he had just returned to his company to handle an urgent matter.

I tucked Juliet’s blanket in and carried the empty thermos into the hallway to get hot water.

Just as I reached the corner, a sweet, delicate voice slipped into my ears.

“Sinclair, Brooks’s cough still isn’t getting better, and I’m really afraid it will turn into pneumonia, because he’s been weak since he was little…”

My steps halted.

Not far away, at the entrance to the VIP pediatric clinic, Sinclair was carefully draping his coat over Brooks.

Margaret held a medical record booklet and leaned against his side with red eyes.

Sinclair’s eyes were filled with distress as he reached out and touched Brooks’s forehead.

“Don’t be afraid, I’ve already booked the specialist appointment. With me here, nothing will happen to Brooks.”

What a touching family of three.

I stood beside the water dispenser and coldly watched this tragic little performance.

Maybe my gaze was too sharp, because Sinclair turned his head and met my eyes.

He froze at first and subconsciously let go of Brooks’s hand.

But immediately after that, he frowned, strode toward me, and spoke with a tone full of defensiveness and interrogation.

“Samuel? Why are you at the hospital? Are you following me?”

I almost laughed from anger.

“Sinclair, do you have some kind of persecution complex?”

Only then did he notice the thermos in my hand and my bloodshot eyes.

He froze for a moment, and his tone softened slightly.

“Are you sick? Why didn’t you call me?”

“It’s Juliet.” I looked at him coldly.

“She had acute appendicitis last night and just had surgery.”

Sinclair’s face changed abruptly.

Margaret, who was standing not far away, heard this and immediately clicked over in her high heels, covering her mouth as she exclaimed.

“Oh my, how did Juliet get so seriously ill?”

“Samuel, honestly, why didn’t you tell Sinclair earlier?”

“Look at how much misunderstanding this caused.”

In just a few sentences, she placed all the blame on me.

As expected, Sinclair took the way out she offered, felt that he had lost face, and immediately lost his temper at me.

“Samuel! Juliet having surgery is such a big thing, so why did you hide it from me?”

“Were you trying to make me look irresponsible on purpose?”

Looking at his ugly face as he blamed me instead, I did not argue hysterically like I used to.

I only stepped closer and stared hard into his eyes.

“Tell you? I called you twenty times last night! To avoid me, you turned off your phone.”

“Sinclair, when you were accompanying them to watch a children’s play, did you ever think about Juliet trembling in pain on the operating table?”

Sinclair was exposed in public, and his face turned blue and white by turns.

He stiffened his neck and argued in shame and anger.

“My phone was dead!”

“Besides, appendicitis isn’t some terminal illness, and once it’s removed, isn’t it fine?”

“Do you need to yell in the hospital hallway? Didn’t you see Brooks still has a high fever?”

In his eyes, Juliet having her abdomen cut open for surgery could not compare to someone else’s son having a little cold.

Looking at the man in front of me, I suddenly felt that saying even one more word would be a waste of breath.

“Yes, appendicitis isn’t a terminal illness.” I tugged at the corner of my mouth, and my voice was as cold as ice.

“Your Brooks sneezing is the terminal illness that needs the whole city to come rescue him.”

“Samuel, don’t talk in that sarcastic tone!”

Sinclair was completely enraged, and he pulled Margaret and Brooks behind him to protect them.

“I only missed your calls, and you have to keep holding on to it, don’t you?”

“You’re completely unreasonable! Margaret, let’s go!”

He turned around in a rage, without even the thought of asking which ward Juliet was in.

Margaret looked back at me, and a hint of smug provocation flashed in her eyes before she held Brooks’s hand and followed him.

I stood where I was and watched them disappear at the end of the hallway.

The fire in my heart that had once been called hope had completely turned into dead ash.

I filled the thermos with hot water, turned around, and walked back to the ward with firm steps.