Chapter 98 What Intentions Does An Have?
Emily drove straight to the hospital and quietly pushed open the ward door. Her tense heart sank the moment she saw what was inside.
Margaret's upper body was completely exposed on the bed.
The blanket had slipped off, but no one was fixing it?!
And sitting by the bed... was Grace.
Emily took two steps inside.
Grace, wearing headphones, didn't hear a thing.
She was sitting cross-legged on the sofa, holding a tablet and doing yoga from an online video.
Her body stretched out easily, her face totally relaxed.
She was even nodding lightly to the music, looking comfy like she was at her own spa!
Emily's face turned cold: "What are you doing! Grandma could catch a cold like this—don't you know? Are you here to take care of her or just to have fun!"
The doctor had stressed over and over: for someone like this old lady in a long-term coma—a vegetative state—they need to be turned and wiped down regularly!
Massage every day to get blood flowing and stop muscles from shrinking.
Otherwise, bedsores are super easy to get!
Once the skin breaks down and gets infected, it can be deadly!
But Grace?
She puts on this good-daughter-in-law act, but here she is doing yoga and messing with her phone.
Grace yanked off her headphones, snapping the tablet shut: "Miss Johnson, I was about to ask you—what are you doing here?"
She leaned back on the sofa, slowly looking up.
Acting like she owned the place.
Emily held back her boiling anger: "Is this how you take care of Grandma?"
Grace glanced at the bed, her eyes flickering: "What are you talking about? I've been taking great care of her! You hardly ever show up, but you're quick to find fault. Alex trusts me to look after Grandma, so Miss Johnson, you don't need to come around much anymore. Gotta avoid suspicion, right?"
Emily set the flowers aside: "Grace, your so-called caring is just for show. Alex might not know, but you think I don't? If you have any conscience, take good care of Grandma!"
With that, ignoring Grace's ugly expression, she headed straight for the bed.
But before her hand could touch the old lady's arm, someone grabbed her!
"What are you doing!"
Grace rushed over in a few steps and blocked the bed.
She stood in front of Margaret, completely hiding her—no way to check Grandma's skin.
Emily frowned: "I'm here to see Grandma. This has nothing to do with you—move!"
But Grace let out a mocking laugh: "You're not welcome here. I'm in full charge of Grandma now. We don't need your fake kindness!"
Emily's eyes coldly scanned behind her.
The bed was a mess, and the sheets were still the hospital ones—never changed.
Grandma was so picky—how could she stand this?!
"Hah, is this how you take care of her? Yoga one minute, imported fruit the next—you're living it up. The doctor said turn her every two hours, massage her whole body at least three times a day. Check skin and do care—none of it can be skipped! So tell me, how many times have you done it for Grandma? You were so glued to that tablet you didn't even notice her blanket off?!"
Emily's questions hit hard, straight and sharp.
Grace's face twisted—she was about to snap back when she spotted a figure at the door walking in.
Her eyes suddenly reddened, tears flowing fast: "Miss Johnson, how can you say that about me? I'm here with Grandma every day, never leaving her side! I just took a quick break when you showed up, and now you're accusing me—what's your angle? Do you have to drive me away completely to be happy?!"
Emily wasn't buying it: "I don't want to argue. Move—I need to change the bedding and check her body."
"No way!" Grace stood firm in front. "What if you touch Grandma and something goes wrong, then blame it on me for bad care? How do I explain to Alex? Emily, I know you hate me! But don't take it out on Grandma!"
Emily felt sick looking at her teary, pitiful face.
She didn't bother talking more and tried to step around.
But Grace was ready—she shoved hard: "What are you doing! Grandma's like this, and you're still causing trouble?"
Emily stumbled back, her lower back slamming into the bed frame—a dull pain shot through her: "Hiss..."
Her face went pale in an instant.
At the door.
Alex, just walking in, pupils shrank: "Emily!"
Grace, eyes red, said all wronged: "Alex, you're finally here. Miss Johnson kept pushing things—I couldn't stop her. The room's all noisy now—how can Grandma rest? I'm really worried her vitals will be off during the checkup..."
With that, more tears came pouring.
Alex frowned, looking over coldly: "Why are you here?"
Emily endured the pain, slowly straightening up. She didn't go forward or tangle with Grace anymore—just stood there, staring calmly at Grace.
That look was too sharp—Grace felt uneasy for no reason.
"Remember this." Emily's voice was soft but clear. "If anything happens to Grandma—even one bedsore or a bit of chill—it's on you. Next time I come, if you're still like this, even if Alex wants you here, I won't allow it!"
Grace's heart skipped.
Before she could speak, Alex turned to her: "What happened? Grace, you didn't take good care of Grandma?"
Grace panicked, quickly stepping aside: "Alex, I'm innocent! Miss Johnson came in and started yelling at me without asking! Look at Grandma—does she look neglected?"
Emily ignored her. Passing Alex on her way out, she paused: "Get a professional caregiver for Grandma. I'll pay. She's suffering enough, no need to add more pain."
Then she turned and left.
Alex looked thoughtful. Turning back, his eyes landed on the bright bunch of flowers on the table.
Suddenly, his eyes narrowed: "Grace, what have you been doing in this room?"
On the table: dessert boxes, fruit plates. And the tablet was still playing a yoga video!
Grace panicked, rushing to explain: "I-I'm human too, taking care of Grandma wears me out. I was just exercising a bit so I can push her out for some sun when she feels better. Alex, you... you still can't forget her?"
Suddenly, Alex's eyes turned icy cold, his whole vibe scary.