Chapter 271 You Really Are an Ugly Monster
"Carl told me," Alexander finally looked up.
Mark frowned. "Sir, what Carl says isn't necessarily reliable."
But Alexander shook his head. "He wouldn't lie about this..."
Mark gripped the blanket tightly.
If Alexander was saying this, then it was probably true.
"She's gone," Alexander's eyes suddenly reddened. "Now there's no one to take care of that child. I can't... I can't just ignore it."
The next second, tears fell without warning.
"After Caroline died, I've heard too many people blame me," Alexander raised his hand to cover his face, his voice tight. "They said if I had just been willing to trust Caroline even a little bit more back then, I would have discovered that Edith had actually faked her death, and Caroline wouldn't have had to suffer all those years."
He paused, as if swallowing something.
"I tried to make excuses for myself. I even thought that the person I loved at the time really was Edith, so I couldn't control my hatred toward Caroline—and that's why I didn't notice the problem." His voice grew hoarser. "But now, I can't find any reason to keep lying to myself."
Caroline was gone, and some things could no longer be avoided through self-comfort.
Even Caroline knew very well—he had never truly trusted her.
She had realized this earlier than anyone else.
"Mark," Alexander looked up with red eyes, gazing at him with an almost pleading expression, "help me find that child, will you?"
"There's nothing left in my life to hold onto... I don't know how else I can keep living." He took a deep breath, his voice trembling. "So please, help me find her, okay?"
Mark's nose stung, tears threatening to fall.
He barely hesitated before nodding hard.
"Okay, I will."
The reasons that could support Alexander to keep living were disappearing one by one. Now that one had finally appeared, he couldn't let go, and neither could Mark.
"Thank you," Alexander nodded heavily and reached out to squeeze Mark's hand.
Then he stood up and walked out with the same blank expression he had when he came in.
Alexander walked slowly through the corridor.
He didn't know where else to go after leaving the hospital.
He didn't want to return to the apartment. Ravenwood Manor was completely destroyed in the earthquake and was being rebuilt—he couldn't live there for a while.
As for that old mansion—he even less wanted to step inside.
Everywhere there held traces of the past, days he didn't want to remember anymore.
And next to the old mansion was the former Neville Family estate.
After Edith faked her death, the Neville Family had moved away, and that house had been empty ever since.
Alexander knew it was the closest place to Caroline's past.
He could even sit on the balcony of the room where he used to live and see the back garden that Caroline had carefully tended.
But that's exactly why it was easier to be struck by memories.
He didn't dare touch those things.
He was thinking about whether to have the servants prepare one of his other residences or just stay at a hotel when his phone suddenly rang.
Alexander glanced at the caller ID—it was from the plastic surgery hospital.
He frowned and answered.
"Mr. Hamilton," the voice on the other end was urgent. "Ms. Edith Neville's preliminary plastic surgery has been completed, but... she's completely refusing to cooperate with post-operative care. She tore off the gauze on her face and is refusing to have her dressings changed. We... we really can't control her, and we don't dare actually hurt her..."
Alexander's expression darkened instantly. He was silent for a few seconds before speaking.
"I understand. I'll be right there."
The top floor of the plastic surgery hospital had been reserved by Alexander, with over a dozen bodyguards rotating shifts every day. Almost everyone here was his people.
As soon as Alexander stepped out of the elevator, the bodyguards immediately bowed their heads.
"Where is she?" he asked.
"In the ward," a bodyguard stepped forward, his expression also troubled. "The doctors are inside trying to control her, but Ms. Edith Neville is very uncooperative, kicking and biting. Two nurses have already been injured by her."
Alexander let out a cold laugh and strode toward the ward.
Before reaching the door, he could hear a woman's shrill screaming from inside.
He pushed the door open.
The situation in the ward was worse than he'd expected.
Medicine was scattered all over the floor, white pills rolled everywhere. The bedside table had been knocked over, the lamp shattered to pieces.
Two nurses cowered in the corner, their faces and arms covered in scratch marks.
The attending physician stood by the bed, clearly at a loss.
Edith was restrained to the bed with straps, but she still wouldn't stop. Even with all four limbs tied down, she was desperately twisting her body, using her head to bang against the metal bed rail.
Hearing the door open, the doctor whipped around. Seeing Alexander enter, he rushed forward like someone grabbing a lifeline.
"Mr. Hamilton!" he said in a low, urgent voice. "We really tried our best, but the moment we're not paying attention, she tries to bang her head on the bed frame or rub her face against the pillow. She's still in recovery—the wound can't take this kind of abuse. If this continues, the skin graft will be completely ruined... More importantly, for the wound to heal, we can't just inject her with sedatives—"
Alexander frowned slightly, his gaze falling on the woman struggling madly on the bed.
He was silent for a few seconds before saying to the doctor.
"I understand. I'll handle it."
The doctor quickly nodded and signaled to the two nurses. The three of them quickly left the ward.
Alexander walked to the bedside, looking down at Edith with eyes as cold as ice.
Edith finally stopped struggling and looked up, staring at him intently.
The original bandages had been torn off by her, and new ones hadn't been applied yet.
The half of her face that had just undergone skin grafting was severely swollen, blood still seeping from where the skin connected. Just one look was enough to turn one's stomach.
"Do you want to die that badly?" Alexander asked coldly.
Edith gritted her teeth and screamed at him. "Alexander! You'll get what's coming to you!"
Alexander let out a light, impatient sigh.
He leaned down closer, his gaze sweeping from her forehead all the way to her chin, as if examining a failed work of art.
Then he said, "You're really ugly now."
Edith's pupils contracted sharply.
"Half your face was destroyed by fire, and the other half finally got a skin graft, only for you to mess it up like this yourself," Alexander's tone was calm to the point of cruelty. "Edith, you're a monster now."
Edith was completely ignited, her voice sharp and trembling. "So what you used to like was a monster like me, right? Alexander, you've changed so fast!"
She gasped for breath and stared at him fiercely again.
"And have you forgotten? Caroline and I are twins. You went through all this trouble to make me get plastic surgery, wasn't it to restore my original appearance, to make me look more like her? What do you mean by calling me ugly now—are you insulting her too?"