In an instant, the air seed to freeze.
Stella Sterling suddenly turned her head to look at Shane Donovan, her pupils contracting, almost thinking she was hallucinating.
What did he say?
The person Dad t was... him?
Before the fall?
Why... had he not ntioned a word about it before?
Isla Sutton also froze, looking blankly at Shane Donovan, then at her daughter, seemingly unable to comprehend the aning behind the words.
The eyes of the police in front beca incredibly sharp in an instant, like searchlights focusing on Shane Donovan, with a professional gaze of scrutiny and pressure: "Mr. Donovan, is it? Could you please tell us what ti and at what location you t with Mr. Sterling this morning? What did you discuss during the eting?"
All eyes converged on Shane Donovan.
"Around nine forty in the morning, on the rooftop terrace of The Sterling Group’s building." His tone was steady, revealing no hint of fluctuation, "We discussed the issues with the Esterlyn project. The Sterlings’ financial chain is broken, and I need to assess the risks and options for The Donovan Group’s subsequent involvent."
He paused, his gaze sweeping across Stella Sterling’s paper-white face, pressed his lips slightly and continued, "We talked for about forty minutes, and I left The Sterling Group around ten twenty. At that ti, while he was emotionally grave, his thoughts were clear, and he was still deploying preliminary plans to handle the crisis..."
Shane Donovan’s statent was logically clear and ti-specific, even pointing out Theodore Sterling’s state at the ti—definitely not soone on the brink of collapse, about to commit suicide.
This seed to corroborate Stella Sterling’s judgnt.
But... why precisely him?
Why was he the last confird eting before Dad’s fall?
Stella’s heart felt as though it was being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, squeezing tighter and tighter, fearing that her father’s fall might sohow be related to him.
The two officers clearly wouldn’t easily let go of this lead, continuing to probe: "When you left, Mr. Donovan, what was Mr. Sterling’s condition? Was there anyone else on the rooftop? During your conversation, did anything... unpleasant occur?"
The last few words were asked with deep implication.
Shane Donovan’s brows didn’t so much as twitch: "When I left, Uncle Sterling was alone on the rooftop, his state was as previously described, no anomalies. The conversation involved business secrets, unsuitable for detailed disclosure, but it was limited to business discussions, no personal conflict."
At that mont, a young officer quickly walked up to one of the policen, whispered a few things, and handed over a phone sealed in an evidence bag—that was Theodore Sterling’s phone.
The policeman took it, operated it for a mont, seemingly checking call logs or ssages.
A mont later, he looked up again, "Mr. Donovan, based on our initial examination of Mr. Sterling’s communication records, in the last period before his fall, besides calls with company executives, the last outgoing call was indeed to you..."
Sohow, hearing this, Stella secretly let out a breath in relief.
The officer closed the notebook, his expression finally showing so mildness, "Mr. Donovan, thank you for your cooperation. However, given that you were one of the last people Mr. Sterling interacted with before his fall, and there was this crucial call, we might need you to officially provide a more detailed statent at the station later. Also, during the investigation, we hope you will temporarily not leave the city."
Shane Donovan remained expressionless and nodded, "Okay."
The officers asked a few more questions, mostly about Theodore Sterling’s recent social and economic conditions, and Isla Sutton and Stella Sterling answered with difficulty while suppressing their grief.
During this, the ergency room door occasionally opened, nurses rushed in and out, each ti tugging at the hearts of everyone outside.
But that heavy door never fully opened again.
After finishing the preliminary inquiry and leaving contact details, the police first departed.
They needed to examine The Sterling Group’s site, retrieve surveillance, and question other related personnel.
Once more, only the three of them were left in the corridor.
Stella grabbed Shane Donovan’s sleeve, lowering her voice, "You’ve t my dad? What did you talk about? Why didn’t you tell before?"
Shane Donovan looked down, his gaze landing on her fingers clutching his forearm, then slowly moved up to et her slightly reddened eyes.
"Things happened too suddenly; I didn’t have the ti to detail it." He started, his voice deep, "Uncle invited to discuss solving the financial chain break of the Esterlyn project."
"The financial hole in the Esterlyn project is deeper than imagined; the overseas financing party is an empty shell company." He held her hand in reverse, his palm warm, his thumb gently stroking the back of her hand, "I finalized related details with Uncle Sterling, also assessed risks, confirming there would be no problems with The Donovan Group financing The Sterlings..."
Stella shuddered inside, finally rembering he had ntioned on the phone earlier, ’he would handle it’...
At that ti, she only thought he was comforting her.
Turns out he had already planned everything...
He paused, glancing at the ergency room that still showed a red light, "When I left, he was indeed deploying a response plan, contacting other shareholders, preparing asset collaterals... His emotions were very stable."
He raised his hand to tuck the stray hairs on her forehead behind her ear, "Stella, your father is not soone who would give up easily. This incident, sothing’s fishy."
Stella listened blankly.
Yes, her father was resilient, navigating the business world for decades, what storm hasn’t he weathered?
How could he possibly fall just because of one setback...
But why precisely after seeing Shane Donovan?
This thought jumped out like a venomous snake, sinking coldly, biting the pit of her heart with a sharp jab.
She suddenly recalled the phone call he hung up, rembered how quickly he appeared at the hospital...
Too coincidental, coincidental enough to make one’s heart palpitate.
Her lips moved, wanting to ask if there was anything else said in that call?
Why, imdiately after he left, did her dad have an accident...
But the words stuck in her throat, looking at his deep, tranquil eyes, not a single word ca out.
He was Shane Donovan.
The one who holds her in the palm of his hand, willing to pluck stars for her Shane Donovan.
How could she suspect him?
While Stella was lost in her chaotic thoughts—
"Click."
The ergency room door opened once more.
This ti, it wasn’t a hurried nurse stepping out but the chief surgeon.
His mask was pulled down to his chin, revealing a deeply weary face, his eyes heavy.
Stella and Isla Sutton almost simultaneously leapt up from their seats, stumbling over to him.
"Doctor! How’s my dad (husband)?" They asked in unison.
The attending doctor pressed his lips together, his gaze sweeping over both, his voice slow and heavy, "The patient’s life is temporarily saved, now out of imdiate danger..."
Isla Sutton felt a sense of relief, but before she could exhale—
The doctor continued, every word like an icicle stabbing her heart: "...However, due to the excessive impact caused by the fall from a height, the damage to the patient’s brain..."
He paused, seeming sowhat reluctant but still declared the cruel verdict: "Barring a miracle, his chances of waking are extrely slim... He will likely fall into a long-term coma, essentially... a vegetative state."
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