Because she still doesn’t know what thod Eli Sheridan used to swap her off the operating table back then, nor how he deceived so many people’s eyes.
Especially Jade Shepherd and Howard Vaughn.
However, it was also due to Jade Shepherd sending her "body" for cremation the mont she learned of her death, allowing this enormous lie to persist for four years.
Ann Vaughn sighed softly, picked up the juice the waiter had just placed down, took a sip, and was unmoved by anything Rowley said.
No victim would feel sympathy for the executioner.
Rowley seed unaware of everything around him; he looked at his trembling hands and murmured to himself, "Why did I fail? I have never failed before. Never."
"It was just a simple surgery for uterine fibroids. How could I possibly fail? No, you’re still alive, which proves I did not fail!"
Uterine fibroids?
Ann’s brow furrowed deeply, and she abruptly raised her head to look at Rowley, her gaze sarcastic: "If you need sothing from , you shouldn’t mix lies into the facts known to both of us."
After speaking, she was about to stand up.
"I didn’t lie! Everything I said is true!"
"I think you might need to see a psychiatrist because you’ve even forgotten what surgery you perford on back then."
"How could I forget? I haven’t forgotten for a mont in these full four years!" Rowley raised his voice, his eyes bloodshot, "The surgery I perford for you was for uterine fibroids. There’s no way I could be mistaken!"
Ann’s footsteps, ready to leave, suddenly froze in place, as if sothing exploded in her mind, accompanied by a wave of dizziness.
She sat back down in her seat, her beautiful face cold as she looked at Rowley, "What did you just say? Wasn’t the surgery you perford on back then an abortion?"
"Abortion?" Rowley burst into laughter, "Back then, the fibroids in your uterus had worsened. There was indeed a risk of abortion if operated on, and I had already ntioned this to Mr. Hawthorne. He said to prioritize your health, and the child could be conceived again."
"I can’t lie to you about this; you can check at the hospital. I’m already at a dead end and have no reason to deceive you."
The fibroids in her uterus had worsened...
Ann Vaughn’s pupils contracted sharply, the scene before her inexplicably appearing double, making her feel weak even to pick up the juice cup in front of her.
Rowley’s assured words echoed continuously in her mind.
Suddenly, she recalled the contents of the test report she had seen in Cyrus Hawthorne’s study at his villa.
It matched Rowley’s words exactly!
What is going on here?
Didn’t Cyrus Hawthorne arrange for her to undergo an abortion so he could take her heart for Cynthia Vaughn?
Ann’s thoughts were in a chaotic tangle; only after a good while did the blackness before her eyes lessen slightly. She took a few deep breaths, trying hard to calm herself down.
"You said you and another doctor respectively handled surgeries for and another girl. You perford uterine fibroid surgery on , so what about the other girl?"
"Didn’t Cyrus Hawthorne have you transfer my heart to her?"
Upon hearing this, it was Rowley who was shocked instead, "What are you talking about? My doctor friend is in charge of an international artificial heart institution. He perford an artificial heart implant surgery for the other girl."
Artificial... heart implant?!
Rowley continued speaking, but Ann Vaughn heard none of it; her ears were ringing loudly, and the world before her seed to whirl around like a vortex, about to swallow her whole.
What had she heard?
What was this doctor saying?
That... was simply impossible!
Ann Vaughn bit her lip hard until a rusty taste flooded her mouth. Her mind cleared significantly, and she spoke in a cold voice.
"You’d better not think about deceiving . I won’t believe such clumsy lies! Cyrus Hawthorne clearly stated he would use my heart to replace Cynthia Vaughn’s, and now you tell he prepared an artificial heart surgery for her instead?"
"Ha, do you think I’m a three-year-old who believes whatever you say?"
If it was really as Rowley described, why didn’t Cyrus Hawthorne deny at the ti that he was going to replace her heart with Cynthia Vaughn’s?
He was so ruthless, his eyes full of hatred and coldness as if looking at a pile of garbage.
He didn’t even wrinkle his brow, pressing her onto the execution table like a criminal!
Who would believe you when you say this kind of thing now? Do you take for a fool?
Rowley watched as the light in Ann Vaughn’s eyes shattered bit by bit, her blood-red lips pressed tightly together.
He cald down, his gaze mixed with so sympathy, "Actually, Mr. Hawthorne’s initial intention was to use your hatred for him to dilute the pain of losing your child."
"Compared to that unborn child, he cared more about whether you could survive, even if the cost was for you to hate him for a lifeti."
For so reason, Rowley recalled the first ti he t Mr. Hawthorne, after being entrusted, he curiously asked, "Aren’t you afraid she’ll hate you?"
"Hate?" Mr. Hawthorne’s voice was calm without the slightest ripple, "I’d rather she hate than endure her disappearing from this world."
But Rowley still rembered his expression at that ti.
As if all the decisive and unyielding tenderness had turned into indescribable gentleness, concentrated in those deep, dark eyes.
Such a ruthless, decisive man unexpectedly showed such an expression.
It was beyond belief to the extre.
"Impossible." Ann Vaughn’s voice was hoarse, her hollow eyes filled with fragile trust, "He couldn’t possibly..."
She knew him well; how could soone so cold-blooded to the bone...
How could he what?
Ann couldn’t speak this answer, just as she thought she understood him well.
But the fact was that all the hatred, resentnt, and grievances she had accumulated over four years were due to such a misunderstanding.
But, was it really a misunderstanding?
"Miss Vaughn, since you’re still alive, it proves that my surgery back then did not fail but had other hidden facts. I hope you can help explain to Mr. Hawthorne and ask him to rescind the punishnt and pursuit against . Rowe would be very grateful."
After speaking, Rowley stood up and bowed to Ann Vaughn again.
Ann Vaughn couldn’t even muster a smile at the corners of her lips; her eyes were unfocused, looking at the glass in front of her, lost in thought.
After who knows how long, long enough that Kenny was getting worried watching the dazed Ann sitting there in a trance but didn’t dare disturb her.
Sutton Jennings booked the entire venue to prevent any guests from coming in and disturbing Ann Vaughn.
As night fell, the lights outside shone brightly and bustlingly.
Ann Vaughn sat at her spot, her limbs nearly stiff, her eyes barely showing so vitality. She took out her phone from her handbag and dialed a number.
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