Chapter 225 Heartache for Sloane
Chapter 225 Heartache for Sloane
Sloane's POV
"I understand." Christian nodded solemnly, his eyes burning with the same anger.
Time ticked by slowly.
Although Jones was successfully resuscitated last night, the doctor said that with severe blood loss and drug poisoning, the first twenty-four hours were the most critical observation period.
We stayed outside the ICU for an entire day.
It wasn't until midnight that the attending physician finally pushed open the door, let out a long breath, and announced that Jones's vital signs had finally stabilized completely—she had truly passed the critical stage.
The sword hanging over everyone's head had finally dropped.
"Can I go in and see her?" I looked at the doctor, my voice hoarse with pleading.
With the doctor's permission, I changed into sterile clothing and walked alone into the ICU.
The room was very quiet, with only the regular beeping of machines.
Jones lay quietly on the hospital bed, her face as pale as transparent paper. Her wrists were wrapped in thick bandages—marks left from her desperate moment.
Although time and illness had left indelible traces on her face, you could still tell she had been a beautiful woman in her youth.
I walked step by step to the bedside, my legs heavy as lead.
I slowly reached out, my fingertips trembling slightly, and gently covered her hand that wasn't hooked up to an IV.
Her hand was cold, yet it gave me an unprecedented feeling of blood connection.
"Mom..."
I choked up, speaking this word with great difficulty yet utmost devotion—a word I had buried in my heart for over twenty years.
Looking at her closed eyes, thinking of the twenty-plus years she had spent in madness after losing me, thinking of the despair that drove her to suicide because of Isabelle's persecution, my tears fell uncontrollably.
Heartache flooded over me like a tide. I swore silently to myself that I wouldn't let anyone who had hurt her get away with it.
In the marble corridor, Professor Brandon still stood outside the glass window leaning on his cane, his gaze fixed on the ICU as if he could never look enough.
He was old, and in just two days he had experienced Jones's suicide attempt, her resuscitation, and the sudden revelation that I was his biological granddaughter—the successive shocks left him looking exhausted and bent over in a way that broke your heart.
"Grandfather," Christian stepped forward, gently supporting the old man's arm, his tone gentle but firm with an undeniable resolve, "You've been here all day, you haven't taken your blood pressure medication. Now that she's out of danger, please go back and rest. I'm here, along with Sloane and Jared. If anything happens, I'll notify you immediately."
Professor Brandon instinctively wanted to refuse, but as soon as he moved, his body swayed uncontrollably.
"Professor, please go back." I walked over and supported his other arm, gently persuading him, "If you collapse, who will stand up for Mom when she wakes up?"
Hearing the words "Mom," Professor Brandon's cloudy eyes welled up with tears again.
He tremblingly gripped my hand back and nodded forcefully: "Alright, good child... I'll listen to you. I need to keep this old life of mine to root out the bastard who separated you mother and daughter all those years ago!"
Escorted by bodyguards, Professor Brandon finally left the hospital reluctantly.
The corridor quieted down, leaving only me, Jared, and Christian.
Christian turned around, his gaze deep as he looked at me.
He had always been a carefree, charming young master, at ease in any situation, but now, standing before me, his hands awkwardly in and out of his suit pockets, his eyes showed complex emotions—shock, heartache, and a trace of cautious hope.
"Sloane..." He took a deep breath, his Adam's apple bobbing slightly, his voice somewhat hoarse, "I'm sorry about everything before. I never imagined... that we share the same blood."
He paused, his eyes gradually reddening, his voice soft as if afraid to disturb something: "Can you... can you call me brother?"
Looking at his reddening eyes, a bittersweet warmth surged in my heart.
During those years in the orphanage, I had fantasized countless times about having a brother who could stand up and protect me when others bullied me.
Later, when Isabelle adopted me, she only treated me as Keira's blood bank and stepping stone. The so-called family affection was nothing but a complete fraud.
And now, my real family member stood before me, looking at me with the most sincere eyes, hoping for my response.
"Brother." Without any hesitation, I looked into his eyes and called out softly but clearly.
Christian's whole body shook, and tears instantly burst from his eyes.
He suddenly reached out and pulled me into his arms, his strength trembling: "My dear sister... You've suffered all these years. From now on, you have your brother. The Brandon family will be your backing. No one will dare bully you again!"
I leaned on his shoulder, tears silently falling.
Jared stood to the side, not interrupting our sibling reunion.
He just watched me quietly, his deep dark eyes flowing with tenderness and indulgence.
It wasn't until Christian had calmed down and released me that Jared stepped forward and naturally drew me into his broad, warm embrace.
That night, the three of us stayed close by outside the ICU.
In the late hours, Christian was forced by Jared to rest on a bench, while I leaned on Jared's shoulder, listening to his steady, powerful heartbeat, my tense nerves finally getting a moment's respite.
Jared's large hand kept holding mine tightly, his thumb occasionally gently caressing the back of my hand, silently conveying strength.
"Sleep for a while, Sloane." He lowered his head and kissed the top of my head, his voice hoarse with concern, "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
I savored the warmth of his embrace and gently closed my eyes.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the corridor's glass windows, dispelling the cold antiseptic smell of the hospital.
Jones's condition was stable. The doctor said she could be transferred to a regular ward as early as that afternoon.
I had just breathed a sigh of relief when suddenly, from the end of the corridor came the sharp sound of high heels striking the floor, accompanied by a woman's arrogant scolding.
"Move aside! Who do you think you are to stop me? The person lying inside is my own sister. What's wrong with me coming to see her?"
It was Isabelle and Keira.
They were clearly carefully dressed up. Isabelle wore a well-tailored Chanel suit, carrying a limited edition platinum bag, while Keira wore sunglasses with the haughty air of a socialite.
The two tried to force their way through but were blocked like two iron walls by the black-suited bodyguards Jared had stationed outside the corridor.
"Sorry, without Mr.'s permission, no one is allowed to approach." The bodyguard repeated the order expressionlessly.