"You found sothing out?" Disbelief was written all over my face. "What did you find out?"
I was there the whole ti. I heard every single word they said. How did I not hear it?
By now, Sebastian Forrest had driven out of the Grant Group’s parking garage. He tapped his fingers intermittently on the steering wheel, a faint smile on his lips. "That Theodore Grant fellow is certainly watertight with his words. It’s impossible to get anything out of him directly."
I couldn’t help but frown slightly. "Then why did you say you found sothing out..."
"He tacitly admitted it."
"Huh?" I was still a bit lost. "When did he admit it?"
Sebastian Forrest glanced at , the corner of his lip twitching upward. "When he said that line about ’kneeling and kowtowing’."
I froze for a second before it belatedly dawned on .
’That’s right—’
Sebastian Forrest had been pressing Theodore Grant on whether he had so kind of leverage on my brother.
But he skipped the denial and went straight to provocation...
Which probably explains Theodore Grant’s sudden burst of anger right before we left. He must have realized his mistake.
"But just a tacit admission is useless..." I bit my lip, my disgust for Theodore Grant growing.
If Theodore Grant getting stabbed by Clara Langley while saving had made feel a complicated sense of guilt before, now I rembered that I was only kidnapped by Clara Langley because of him in the first place!
And now, he had reduced my only brother to his current state...
This relentless pestering was utterly disgusting!
"How is it useless?" Sebastian Forrest comforted with a smile. "Once you tear a small hole in an airtight net, it can’t hold anything anymore."
I watched as the car headed onto the elevated highway. This wasn’t the way back to the office, and it definitely wasn’t the way ho.
"Where are we going?"
"To see your brother. We might be able to pry sothing out of him."
...
When we arrived at the psychiatric sanatorium, the attending physician imdiately ca to greet us.
"Mr. Forrest, Mrs. Forrest, you’re here?"
"How is my brother?"
"He’s relatively stable, I suppose. As long as the na ’Theodore Grant’ isn’t ntioned, his mood doesn’t fluctuate too drastically..." the attending physician said in a low voice.
I couldn’t help but sigh. ’As I thought.’
"What is it?" The doctor noticed my expression looked a little off. "Have you confird it? Is the person who hard Mr. Joyce really that man nad ’Theodore Grant’?"
I nodded. "We’re not certain yet, but it’s highly likely it was him."
The doctor, however, seed to breathe a sigh of relief. "That’s good."
"Why?"
The doctor quickly explained, "If the patient’s series of behaviors can be traced back to a source, it ans the neurological damage is pathological. With proper treatnt and intervention, there’s always a chance he can recover and regain his senses one day."
"Really?" I couldn’t help but feel a surge of joy.
"Of course."
The doctor’s words gave infinite hope.
At least my brother wouldn’t be like this forever. As long as there was hope, there was a possibility of a cure.
And that was enough.
"Dr. Donovan, can we go see him?"
"Of course." The doctor nodded eagerly. "People he’s familiar with, like you, should visit him more often. It will help him regain his senses. Co on, I’ll take you there."
"Thank you, Dr. Donovan."
Soon, we were led to my brother’s room.
My brother was on the floor playing with building blocks with an orderly.
Seeing my brother building with the blocks like a child made my heart ache.
We may have bickered constantly, but we were still connected by blood. No matter how much we fought, we were still brother and sister.
"Brother..." I couldn’t stop myself from taking a few steps closer, but it was as if he hadn’t heard . He continued to happily stack his blocks, completely oblivious.
"Don’t get too close." Seeing that I was about to move forward again, the doctor cautioned, "Your brother’s behavior can be aggressive right now. If he has an episode, he could hurt soone."
"Okay."
I could only stand my ground and give up the idea of getting any closer.
"Brother, it’s , Chelsea. Do you still recognize ?"
Perhaps because I’d raised my voice, my brother, who had been happily playing with his blocks, turned his head to look at .
"Chelsea? Chelsea?" My brother repeated my na chanically.
Joy spread across my face. I rembered the doctor telling that my brother had ntioned my na before. It seed he really did react to it.
I nodded hurriedly. "Yes, I’m Chelsea! I’m your sister! Brother, can you rember?"
"Sister?" My brother tilted his head in confusion. Just as my smile widened, he suddenly shook his head. "No, I don’t have a sister. I don’t have a sister... You’re not my sister, you’re not..."
My brother suddenly beca agitated. He violently swept aside the blocks in front of him and began rolling on the floor, clutching his head.
"Brother..." My heart lurched. I instinctively tried to rush forward but was pulled back by Sebastian Forrest. "Don’t go over there. Leave this to the doctor and the orderly. Let’s go outside first."
Seeing my brother grow more and more frantic, I had no choice but to leave first.
Through the observation window, I watched as the orderlies tied my brother to the bed with cloth restraints. A bitter, aching feeling filled my heart, and my throat felt like it was stuffed with cotton, making it hard to breathe.
"Dr. Donovan, does he usually have this reaction when he hears the na ’Chelsea’?"
Just then, Sebastian Forrest’s deep, calm voice ca from behind .
I glanced back instinctively and realized the doctor had co out of the room at so point.
"Yes." The doctor nodded. "That’s why I find it a bit strange..."
He then turned to . "Miss Joyce, forgive for asking, but what is your relationship with your brother usually like?"
I pressed my lips together. "It’s... okay, I guess."
Ever since we were kids, I was always the one following him around, trying all sorts of ways to please him. But I suppose all older brothers get annoyed with their younger siblings, so he was never particularly nice to .
But that didn’t change his importance in my heart at all.
"That’s why I find it strange," Dr. Donovan said, taking a deep breath. "Theoretically, the triggers that cause a patient to have an episode are subconscious reactions buried deep in their cerebral cortex."
"For example, his strong reaction to the na ’Theodore Grant’ follows this sa principle..."
I started to get nervous. "Then why would my brother have the sa reaction to ?"
Dr. Donovan shook his head. "I’m not sure about that. We can only conduct further observation."
Just then, Sebastian Forrest, who had been silent beside , suddenly spoke up. "Chelsea, I rember the last ti you argued with your brother, didn’t he also say sothing about you not being his sister?"
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