Chapter 120
Meanwhile, Blake had just returned from the restroom to find the hospital room empty.
He'd spotted paparazzi in the hallway and been forced to hide, only to discover Caroline had vanished during his absence.
He was about to leave when something caught his eye—a familiar yet somehow strange figure in the hospital room. Something inexplicable drew him inside.
"Grandma," he whispered, the word slipping out almost involuntarily.
Marsha's fingers twitched at the sound of his voice. Her hand reached out, grasping his with surprising strength. Her clouded eyes slowly opened, tears rolling silently down her weathered cheeks.
"Blakey, my child," she murmured. "You've suffered so much all these years."
Blake's heart constricted. He wanted to explain she had mistaken him for someone else, but looking into those cloudy, tear-filled eyes, the words died in his throat.
"Yes, Grandma. It's me," he replied gently.
Noticing her cracked lips, he dampened a cotton swab with water and carefully moistened them. Such a simple gesture, yet it felt strangely familiar.
Marsha's expression brightened. Still holding his hand, she began reminiscing about his childhood—how young he was when he left Sovereign City, how desperately she had missed him all these years.
Gradually, Blake found himself drawn into her stories. The strangest part was how right it felt, as if he truly were the grandson she remembered.
After a while, Marsha seemed to recall something important. She glanced thoughtfully toward the door.
"Blakey, where's your sister?" she asked. "You haven't seen her in so many years. This would be the perfect chance for you two to reunite. She's missed you terribly."
Her voice softened. "After you both left, she went searching for you on her own."
She squeezed his hand. "Your sister... she's had such difficult years. You must take care of her from now on."
"I will," he promised, though he had no idea who this sister might be.
Marsha continued talking, and Blake listened, completely captivated by stories that somehow felt both foreign and familiar.
The door suddenly burst open, shattering the moment. Alton rushed in, his face etched with panic. Seeing Marsha awake, his expression softened briefly before hardening as he turned to Blake.
"You. Outside. Now."
Though Blake didn't recognize this man, Marsha's reaction suggested familiarity. Even if this stranger wasn't close to Marsha, he clearly knew something about the woman Blake had just met.
He followed Alton into the hallway.
The moment they cleared the doorway, Alton seized Blake's collar. "Where is Caroline Hamilton?" he demanded, his voice fierce. "What have you done with her?"
Caroline?
Blake's expression shifted from confusion to sudden, desperate recognition.
"Who did you say?" He grabbed Alton's collar in return. "Are you saying she's Caroline Hamilton? That woman was Caroline?"
Alton had no patience left. "Who the hell are you? What do you want with her? I'm warning you—if you've hurt her—"
"I'm Blake Hamilton," he interrupted, suddenly dazed. "Caroline... she's my sister."
The reality crashed over him. He'd finally found her, failed to recognize her, and now she was gone.
He cursed himself silently. So the elderly woman truly was his grandmother all along.
"Blake Hamilton?" Alton repeated, scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes. "The famous actor? The one who's been all over the media?"
Blake nodded. "Yes."
Alton remained suspicious. "Caroline never mentioned having a brother."
"My sources tell me you were the last person to see her. What did you talk about? Where is she now?"
Blake could hear the slight tremor in Alton's voice. This wasn't just concern—it was fear.
"I don't know," Blake admitted, his thoughts chaotic. The joy of finding his sister had been immediately crushed by the realization that she was now missing. "I honestly don't know."
Then he remembered. "Wait—she left me a note when she disappeared."
The note read simply: [If you need information, contact Alton Brooks. He can help you find your sister.] Below was a phone number.
Alton recognized Caroline's handwriting immediately.
So this man wasn't responsible for her disappearance. But where had she gone?
Blake was asking himself the same question.
After a moment of silence, a sudden realization struck him—the incident at Eros Lounge.
"Her husband," he said, the words bitter on his tongue. "That blind fool of a husband! And that hypocritical stepsister!"
Blake told Alton everything about what had happened at Eros Lounge, particularly Arthur's reaction. His indignation grew with every word.
"I've never seen such a delusional man," he fumed. "Refusing to believe his own wife while trusting everyone else!"
When Blake mentioned impersonating a male model, Alton's expression became indescribable.
But when he heard what Arthur had done, Alton slammed his fist against the wall, rage blazing across his face.
"Arthur!" he snarled. "That bastard!"
---
In the VIP hospital room, Heidi was enjoying royal treatment.
Layla and Logan buzzed around her like eager attendants, offering snacks and fruit, completely devoted to her care.
"Ms. White, we'll take good care of you," they promised in chorus. "You'll get better soon, and then we can all go home together."
Heidi smiled with practiced warmth. "You're such good children. Once I'm better, I'll take you somewhere special."
The children cheered with excitement.
Nearby, Arthur was handling business matters.
They had finally gathered all ninety-nine volunteer test subjects. Once he signed off, the experiment could begin.
As he reviewed the volunteer profiles, Alton's call came through—once, twice, three times. Arthur rejected each attempt, but Alton persisted. When Arthur finally answered, Alton's accusatory voice filled the line.
"Arthur, what have you done with Caroline?"
Arthur's brow furrowed. "If she's missing, go to the police. Instead of interrogating me, why don't you ask what she's plotting now?"
With that, he hung up, giving Alton no chance to respond.
Heidi sat beside him and had clearly overheard the brief exchange.
Her face creased with manufactured concern. "It's dark already. Where could Caroline have gone?"
She hesitated, lowering her voice. "She left Eros Lounge with that male model, didn't she? You don't think..."
She trailed off, seemingly too embarrassed to continue, but her implication was crystal clear.
Nighttime. A single man and woman. The suggestion hung in the air between them.
A moment later, Arthur called his assistant.
"Find out where Caroline has gone."
After ending the call, Arthur returned to reviewing the documents as if nothing had happened. But when he reached a particular volunteer profile, his expression froze.
Heidi, whose attention never left him, noticed his reaction immediately.
"Arthur, what is it?"
Following his gaze, she saw Caroline's name on the volunteer list.
How could this be?
Her pupils contracted sharply, but her momentary shock quickly gave way to the faintest smile.