Chapter 259 I Am Looking for Someone

Chapter 259 I Am Looking for Someone

She banged on the iron gate, yelling that she was normal and telling them to let her out.

No one paid any attention.

In this place, everyone said they were normal.

On her first night there, a woman in the next room screamed all night.

Grace curled up on the iron bed and felt real fear for the first time.

Days went by, and things got worse for Grace in the mental hospital.

The patients here often lost control, and the staff had no patience.

She often had her food taken, and sometimes other patients pushed or hit her.

She got thinner and more worn out, and the last bit of light in her eyes disappeared.

Three months later, at noon in the cafeteria, they were serving food.

A male patient who had been locked in the isolation ward for years was let out for some reason. He walked around the cafeteria with his tray, mumbling to himself.

Grace was sitting by the aisle, looking down and eating a bowl of thin porridge.

When the man passed her, he suddenly stopped and looked down at her.

"Bad person," he said.

Grace looked up, but before she could react, the man raised the fork in his hand.

The fork was dull and rusty, but he stabbed it hard enough to pierce her throat.

Blood sprayed from her neck. She stared with wide eyes, clutching her throat with both hands, trying to speak but making no sound.

She fell to the floor, twitched a few times, then went still.

The cafeteria turned chaotic, with screams everywhere. Staff rushed over and pinned down the man, who was still muttering.

Grace lay on the floor with her eyes open, the light in her pupils fading bit by bit.

The last thing she saw was the cold white fluorescent light on the ceiling of the mental hospital.

It looked exactly like the one she had seen while lying on the operating table during her plastic surgery.

Her eyes slowly closed and never opened again.

Seven months passed, and Emily was still missing.

Alex had lost a lot of weight. His cheekbones stuck out, and a few gray hairs had appeared at his temples.

He still dressed neatly, with a crisp suit and shiny shoes, but his eyes looked different.

They used to be sharp and intense. That sharpness was still there, but now there was exhaustion underneath.

In those seven months, he never stopped looking for Emily.

After the search teams gave up, he paid for a private investigation firm to keep going.

His people checked every fishing village, every small island, and every hospital along the coast.

Someone said they saw a woman who looked like her in a fishing village. He drove there overnight, only to find it was just a tourist from out of town who happened to look similar.

Someone said there was an amnesiac female patient in a hospital who matched the photo. He rushed over again, but the age didn't match.

Every time hope appeared, it was crushed. He had gotten used to it.

Michael watched him search day after day. He felt sorry for him but didn't dare to tell him to stop, so he just stayed by his side.

"Mr. Baker," Michael finally said one day, carefully, "It's been seven months. If Miss Johnson were still alive, she would have contacted us by now."

"She might be hurt," Alex said, flipping through a list of coastal hospitals he had just received, without looking up. "She could have lost her memory or be stuck somewhere and can't get out. She's definitely not dead. She's alive, waiting for me to find her."

Michael opened his mouth but said nothing in the end.

He knew it was useless to say anything.

Alex wasn't going to give up.

Then one day, his phone rang.

It was the head of the private investigation firm he had hired.

"Mr. Baker, we found a small hospital. It's in a small county town in the south, near the sea. It's a tiny place. About seven months ago, they took in a pregnant woman who had nearly drowned. They registered her as 'unknown.' She gave birth to a baby a few days ago, and the birth record still lists the mother as 'unknown.'"

Alex's hand shook as he held the phone. "Send me the address."

After hanging up, he grabbed his car keys and headed out. At the door, he stumbled and almost fell.

He steadied himself on the doorframe, took a deep breath, and kept going.

The hospital was really small—just a three-story white building with a few coconut trees in the yard. The leaves rustled when the sea breeze blew.

When Alex walked into the inpatient building, the nurse at the front desk looked up at him and paused.

The man looked completely out of place in this small county town—sharp suit, strong presence—but his eyes were red.

"I'm looking for someone," Alex said, placing Emily's photo on the counter. "This woman. She was brought in about seven months ago."

The nurse looked at the photo, then at him, her expression complicated. "Are you a family member?"

"I'm her husband."

The nurse hesitated, then pointed upstairs. "The last room on the second floor. Go see for yourself."

Alex took the stairs two at a time. When he reached the door at the end of the hallway, his hand shook badly as he pushed it open.

The room was small, with just a bed, a nightstand, and a chair.

A woman sat on the bed with her back to the door, looking down at the baby in her arms.

Her hair had grown longer and was loosely tied back. She had lost a lot of weight—her shoulder blades showed through her clothes.

But Alex would never mistake that back.

"Emmie," he said softly, as if afraid to wake from a dream.

Emily turned around.

Her face was the same, but her chin was sharper and her skin was pale, almost see-through.

She looked at the man in the doorway, froze for a few seconds, then smiled. Tears welled up in her eyes as she smiled. "Alex, you came."

Alex walked over, each step feeling like he was walking on clouds.

He reached the bed, looked down at her face, and touched her cheek. When his fingers felt the warmth of her skin, his eyes turned red.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice so hoarse it was barely audible. "I'm late."

"It's okay," Emily said, holding his hand and pressing it to her cheek. "You're here now."

She looked down at the baby in her arms and turned the child toward him. "Look at your daughter."

Alex looked down.

The baby was small, with pink skin and a wrinkled little face tucked in a blanket, sleeping quietly.

His tears finally fell. He reached out and touched his daughter's tiny hand. The little hand instinctively grabbed his finger and held on tight.

Alex opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but his throat felt blocked. No sound came out.

He pulled Emily and the baby into his arms and held them for a long, long time.

Emily buried her face in his shoulder, and her eyes turned red too.