Jean Ellison looked up at him, her eyes showing no emotion.
"Why?"
"You’ve heard it too. Your daughter needs a large sum for surgery, and only her adoptive parents can afford it."
Your daughter....
Yes, Jesse was only her daughter.
"I will find a way to gather the money, can’t you."
She wanted to plead with him to reconsider; she didn’t need triple compensation, she needed a lawyer.
Her words were interrupted.
"No."
Justin Holden’s attitude was cold, his jawline tense, thin lips pressed into a hard line.
Jean knew him too well sotis, the shorter his words and the more indifferent his expression, the less room there was for negotiation.
Justin Holden stared at her face, sothing roiling fiercely in his abyss-like eyes.
Before, there had also been a woman beside him who didn’t understand human words, insistently asking about things that weren’t possible.
In the end, he had to agree.
He turned and left, one hand in his trouser pocket, not glancing back at her.
Jean’s phone suddenly rang in her pocket.
"Hello, is this Miss Ellison? Aunt Kingston won’t take her dication no matter what we do."
It was a call from the nurse at the nursing ho.
"I’ll be right there."
Jean changed out of her shoe covers in the car, put the interview notes into her bag, and drove straight to the suburban nursing ho.
After getting out of prison, she went to visit her mother that very day.
Susan Kingston, her hair completely white, sat on the terrace, her eyes vacant, gazing endlessly in the direction of the west of the city.
A few nurses around her coaxed her to take her dicine, but she wouldn’t open her mouth or speak.
"Aunt Kingston."
Upon hearing a familiar voice, she slowly turned her head. Seeing Jean, there was finally so expression on her face.
"Claire... my child..."
Susan Kingston stood up shakily, ignoring the nurses’ persuasion, and stumbled toward Jean.
Jean signaled the nurses behind her not to follow.
She helped Susan Kingston back to her room.
A nurse followed in and placed several dicine bottles of varying heights on the table.
Susan Kingston was staying in a single room in a nursing ho, attended by a dedicated nurse.
Jean rembered sothing and chased the nurse outside to ask, "How much does Aunt Kingston owe here?"
The nurse’s attitude was gentle, saying, "Aunt Kingston’s daughter paid a large sum at once, so there’s no outstanding debt."
Jean was stunned. How was it that she didn’t know she had paid?
She was taken away by the police from school and hadn’t even seen her mother.
While in prison, she learned from the news that after the Caldwell Group went bankrupt, Timothy Caldwell’s wife went mad and her whereabouts were unknown.
"The money is enough for Aunt Kingston to be treated here for six years."
The nurse added.
"Six years..." Jean muttered in repetition.
Isn’t that the length of her sentence?
Could it be an old friend of her father’s, she rembered uncles often visiting during holidays, perhaps they lent a hand.
"I understand, thank you."
"You’re welco, Miss Ellison."
Jean returned to the room, seeing the dicine still untouched on the table.
She picked up the dicine, put it in her palm, and took a cup of warm water, walking over to Susan Kingston.
"Take your dicine."
Susan Kingston’s gaze was empty, she looked up at her, fixated, which was almost a bit frightening.
She raised her hand, grabbing Jean’s wrist.
"Claire, tell mom, where have you been all this ti, why haven’t you co to see ."
"And your dad, even if he’s busy with work, he should co ho, I haven’t seen him in so long."
Jean’s hand holding the water cup trembled, spilling water onto the back of her hand.
She dared not et Susan Kingston’s eyes, placing the dicine into her hand, repeating, "Take your dicine."
"I’m not sick!"
Susan Kingston flung her hand, the pills scattering, and the water cup shattered on the ground, glass shards everywhere.
Jean wiped the water from her face, squatting to pick up the pills one by one.
She moved slowly, far less than the speed of Susan Kingston’s madness; pillows and sheets from the bed, books from the table, all fell to the floor.
A thick foreign language book hit the back of her head precisely, causing her to cry out in pain.
Holding her head, clutching a handful of pills, she turned to look at Susan Kingston, lowering her voice to call her.
"Mom."
Susan Kingston’s hand halted mid-air, the vase crashing to the floor.
She ran over, embracing Jean.
"Mommy’s here, don’t be afraid, don’t be afraid, Claire."
"Your dad didn’t break the law, the police will send him back in a couple of days, and then we can be a family again."
Jean stood up, assisting her to sit by the bed.
Her palm opened, the pills soaked, were now inedible.
The nurse brought more dication in, unfazed by the ss on the floor.
"Miss Ellison, you’re so considerate, taking care of Aunt Kingston with such care."
Jean fetched another cup of warm water, taking the dication from the nurse’s hand.
"My mom and Aunt Kingston have been friends for years, I work nearby, so I help look after her."
The nurse added, "Do you know where Aunt Kingston’s daughter went? She hasn’t visited for so many years, but a man cos by often."
Jean was alard, a bad feeling rising, and she urgently asked, "What’s the man’s na?"
"I’m not sure, he only ever cos to look in from outside, leaves fruit and flowers at the door, never enters the room."
The nurse couldn’t provide more details.
The nurse returned to the station, happening to see the man who frequently visited Aunt Kingston.
Dressed in a custom-tailored black shirt and trousers, his features were deep and sculpted, and beneath his rimless glasses, there was always a cool, restrained air.
He held a bouquet of carnations and a fruit basket.
The director ca out of the clinic, stopping specifically to shake hands with him.
"Lawyer Holden, it’s been a few days since you’ve last been here."
"I’ve taken on a case recently, relatively busy."
The young man’s attitude was modest, pressing the elevator button to go up with the director.
The nurse watched his back, montarily absorbed.
The colleague next to her nudged her arm, whispering, "Stop staring, I’ve heard that this handso guy who often visits Aunt Kingston is her son-in-law."
"Son-in-law?"
The nurse was dumbfounded.
The daughter had been out of sight for five years, yet the son-in-law ca by every few days; what a strange affair.
Justin Holden went upstairs, stopping outside the room, setting the flowers and fruit basket on the floor when he heard voices inside.
"Mom, I’m Claire...."
He bent over, clutching the basket handle tightly, just in ti to see through the glass window of the door into the room.
A slender woman with a high ponytail, back to the door, half-kneeling before the bed, clad in a light blue fitted suit skirt hugged her waist and hips.
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