The sll of disinfectant lingered in the hospital room.
Jean Ellison had just fed thirsty Jesse a few sips of water with a small spoon after he woke up, watching her daughter fall back into a drowsy sleep again.
She let out a small sigh of relief, rubbing her brow with exhaustion.
Her phone vibrated in her pocket. Afraid of disturbing the child, she quickly walked out into the corridor to answer.
Seeing the na "Philip Paxton" on the screen, she was sowhat surprised.
"Captain Paxton?"
She lowered her voice.
On the other end, Philip Paxton’s voice was unlike his usual cheerful tone, carrying a rare seriousness and urgency.
"Claire, is now a good ti to talk?"
Jean felt a pang of apprehension in her heart, a gut feeling that sothing bad had happened.
She glanced at the quiet hospital room, taking a few more steps down the corridor.
"Yes, go ahead."
"I just got so news," Philip’s voice was quick, "Soone secretly took a sample to BioCross Genetics Center to conduct a paternity test between Justin Holden and Jesse. The report just ca out."
Jean felt a chill shoot from her feet to the top of her head, fingers clutching her phone tightened abruptly, knuckles whitening.
Her breath stalled, her mind went blank montarily, and her voice changed in pitch.
"What? Who did it? How do you know?"
Her first reaction was Justin?
Did he eventually start to suspect and check it himself?
But she imdiately dismissed the thought; if it were him, Philip wouldn’t use the words "soone secretly."
Philip’s voice was calm, with a reassuring strength: "Don’t panic about how I know. I have so contacts and access in the system."
He paused and added, "It’s a trustworthy senior of mine who’s working as a tech supervisor at BioCross. He saw a familiar na during report review and found it suspicious, so he inford ."
He listened to Jean’s clearly heavy and hurried breathing over the phone, understanding already dawning on him.
He had actually guessed for a long ti. The first ti he saw Jesse, the child’s features bore an uncanny resemblance to Justin Holden, as did Jean’s unusually complex attitude towards him, plus the past she desperately tried to hide...
All clues had long pointed to the only answer.
He just hadn’t brought it up.
"Claire," Philip’s tone softened a bit, yet beca more solemn, "What are you planning to do now?"
Jean’s heart pounded in her chest, nearly shattering her ribs.
An enormous fear poured over her like icy water, leaving her limbs cold.
Was the secret about to be exposed?
Jesse’s identity... if Justin knew...
She gasped, forcing herself to stay calm, her voice trembling with excessive tension.
"Captain, send the address of the genetics center, I’m heading over imdiately; that report must not fall into others’ hands."
Her reaction fully confird Philip’s long-held suspicions.
He was silent for a mont, emotions mixed in his heart, but more concerned about the situation of the mother and daughter.
"I understand." Philip’s voice was firm, "There’s no need to worry, I’m already on my way. Tell your location, I’ll swing by and pick you up."
He made a quick decision, his tone not permitting defiance: "Rest assured, no matter whose hands that report is in now, I’ll find a way to intercept it. This matter won’t leak through this channel. I promise you."
His words acted like a stabilizing pill, temporarily steadying Jean’s nearly collapsing emotions.
She leaned against the cold wall, her body trembling slightly as she reported the hospital’s address.
"Okay, stay at the hospital, don’t wander around, wait for my call."
Philip instructed, then hung up the phone.
Jean lowered her phone helplessly, pressing her back against the wall, barely supporting her weakened body.
She looked up at the glaring lights on the corridor ceiling, feeling a dizzying whirl.
Was the secret, in the end, impossible to keep?
Jean hung up Philip’s call, her heart still racing, her palms full of cold sweat.
She took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down, and quickly walked back to the ward.
Jesse was asleep again, his small brows slightly furrowed, seemingly not sleeping peacefully.
Jean looked at her daughter’s pale sleeping face, her heart wrenching in agony.
She could not let anyone hurt her child again.
She imdiately took out her phone and dialed a number.
The phone rang a few tis before it was answered, a gentle and capable female voice coming from the other side.
"Hello? Jean? Calling at this ti, is sothing up with Jesse?"
"Isabel," Jean’s voice carried an unmistakable anxiety and plea, "I need to leave imdiately to deal with sothing very urgent. Jesse just had surgery, and I don’t feel safe leaving alone in the ward... could you please co over to help watch her for a while? I’ll be back as soon as possible!"
Isabel Dalton was one of the few people Jean could absolutely trust.
She promptly agreed, "No problem, I’m nearby, I’ll co right over. Don’t worry, be careful on the road, and leave the child to ."
Having ended the call, Jean felt a little more relieved.
She stayed by the bedside, clutching her daughter’s hand tightly, feeling like ti was crawling by.
A few minutes later, Isabel rushed in. She did not ask any questions, just patted Jean’s shoulder: "Go ahead, I’m here."
Jean gave her a grateful look, took one last deep look at Jesse, then grabbed her bag and quickly rushed out of the ward.
Just as she arrived at the hospital entrance, Philip Paxton’s car screeched to a halt in front of her. She opened the door and got in, her face as pale as paper.
"Fasten your seatbelt." Philip Paxton looked serious, wasting no words. He hit the gas pedal and the car sped off into the traffic.
They remained silent throughout the ride.
Jean Ellison clutched the seatbelt tightly, her eyes anxiously fixed on the road ahead.
Philip Paxton concentrated on driving, occasionally glancing at her in the rearview mirror with concern in his eyes.
The car finally stopped in front of a modern-looking private dical building.
They quickly got out and almost jogged into the lobby, heading straight for the BioCross Genetics Center reception on the third floor.
However, they were still a step too late.
Just as they reached the reception desk and Philip Paxton was about to show his credentials, he caught sight of the elevator doors opening out of the corner of his eye.
Leah Sutton stepped out from inside.
She held a manila envelope, sealed with a label, clearly having just picked up the report.
She was looking down at her phone, seemingly about to make a call.
As she looked up, her eyes t those of the hurried Jean Ellison and Philip Paxton.
The air instantly froze.
A flash of astonishnt crossed Leah Sutton’s face. Then she quickly scanned Jean Ellison’s panicked, extrely pale face and glanced at Philip Paxton, standing beside her with a solemn expression, obviously there to assist.
She imdiately understood why they were here.
Leah Sutton’s gaze finally returned to the still-sealed envelope in her hand.
As if she’d thought of sothing amusing, her lips curled into a knowing yet slightly mocking smile.
Indeed, it was exactly as she had suspected.
The results in this report required no verification by opening it.
Jean Ellison’s frantic rush here with a policeman was proof enough.
The child nad Jesse was undoubtedly Justin Holden’s daughter.
But... why?
A huge question still lingered in Leah Sutton’s mind.
For the past five years, Justin Holden’s life had been spotless, without any won around him, and even rumors were scarce.
How could a four-year-old daughter suddenly appear?
And given the situation, Justin himself was clearly unaware of this; otherwise, why would Jean Ellison fear the report falling into the wrong hands?
Leah Sutton, in her high heels, walked step by step towards the stunned Jean Ellison.
Her deanor remained elegant, even exuding an air of superiority.
She stopped in front of Jean Ellison, holding up the sealed report with a playful, teasing tone.
"Reporter Ellison... did you rush here for this?"
Jean Ellison stared nervously at the envelope in her hand, her lips tightly pressed together, her whole body on alert.
Seeing her as if facing a formidable foe, Leah Sutton suddenly found it sowhat dull.
With a light chuckle, she unexpectedly handed the critical report to Jean Ellison.
"Here, it’s yours."
Jean Ellison was utterly stunned, looking at her in disbelief, then at the report so close, not imdiately reaching for it. She couldn’t understand what Leah Sutton intended.
Why spend so much effort obtaining the report only to abandon it so easily?
"Why are you doing this?"
Jean Ellison’s voice was hoarse, filled with suspicion and confusion.
Philip Paxton stepped forward as well, standing by Jean Ellison’s side, his sharp gaze fixed on Leah Sutton, carrying a professional scrutiny.
Leah Sutton withdrew her hand, casually playing with the report in her hand, her gaze sweeping over Jean Ellison, then glancing at Philip Paxton, her tone calm yet with an undertone of knowing arrogance.
"I don’t need to open it to know what’s inside; the result is right before my eyes."
She looked pointedly at Jean Ellison: "Your frantic rush over here is the best evidence, isn’t it? Do you still need this paper report for proof?"
Jean Ellison’s heart sank. Leah Sutton had indeed figured it out.
"Jean," Leah Sutton leaned slightly forward, lowering her voice so only the three of them could hear, her tone carrying a mix of curiosity and coldness.
"I’m curious, how did you manage to have his child without Justin Holden knowing? And why now appear with the child by his side? What exactly do you want from him?"
Jean Ellison’s face turned even paler, her jaw clenched tight: "This is none of your business."
"Huh," Leah Sutton straightened up, letting out a cold laugh, "It’s none of my business. But I hate being played for a fool, and I despise unclear, secretive situations."
She paused, looking at Jean Ellison, her gaze sharp and direct: "Tell , what do you really want? Money? Or Mrs. Holden’s position?"
She speculated on the most mundane possibilities, her tone carrying a hint of patronizing.
"If you want to marry Justin Holden, with this child, there’s a chance you might succeed. You needn’t do these sneaky, risky things to draw his attention or guard against . I, Leah Sutton, don’t need a DNA report to compete for a man."
Her pride and straightforwardness took both Jean Ellison and Philip Paxton by surprise.
Jean Ellison looked at the impeccably made-up, powerful woman before her and suddenly found it sowhat laughable and pathetic.
She shook her head, her voice light yet carrying an undeniable firmness.
"Editor-in-Chief Sutton, you’ve got it all wrong. I want nothing, especially not Mrs. Holden’s position."
She glanced at the report, then back at Leah Sutton: "I only want to protect my daughter, let her grow up safe and healthy. Nothing more."
Leah Sutton scrutinized her, seemingly assessing the truth of her words.
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