Chapter 50 Wentworth's Work
Matilda asked the people around her, "Who left this coffee here?"
Everyone said they didn't know, with someone joking, "Maybe you have a secret admirer?"
Matilda didn't dare drink it.
Just as she was about to throw it away, she noticed an identical cup of coffee on Ethan's seat.
Obviously, Ethan had brought it.
Ethan was looking at her now, nodding in her direction.
Matilda walked over, placed the coffee back on his desk, and returned to her seat without a word.
...
At lunch, they could eat at the hospital cafeteria or go to outside restaurants.
Some doctors who'd gotten to know each other would go out together, but Matilda chose the cafeteria to save money.
For her, there wasn't much she couldn't eat—as long as it was standard cafeteria food, she could handle it.
She'd just gotten her tray and sat down when Ethan sat across from her.
Matilda glanced around. There were no empty seats nearby, and switching would mean walking far out of her way, so she stayed put.
She'd gotten there first anyway—why should she move?
Initially Ethan said nothing, and they ate in silence.
Halfway through the meal, Ethan suddenly spoke. "Back then, I planned to confess to you after high school graduation, but my father in Sanveria suddenly became critically ill. My aunt took me there, and I finished my studies abroad. I always wanted to contact you, but I was so busy—caring for my father, keeping up with school, and looking after my little sister."
"One summer I came back to find you, but you weren't home. The neighbors said you were working summer jobs and wouldn't be back, and they didn't have your contact information either... I came back two years ago and saw you had a boyfriend."
Matilda asked, "So why did you come back now?"
"I always felt Phoenix City was my home. Phoenix City has you. I wanted to try once more."
"Try what?" Matilda asked.
"Try to win you back. You're the girl I've liked since I was young. Seeing you again this time, I finally see my heart clearly. I should have come back sooner."
"But you're still too late." Matilda popped a meatball in her mouth, chewing while saying, "Actually, that man you saw that day—he's not my boyfriend. He's my husband. I'm already married."
Ethan's expression suddenly dimmed.
After a moment, he looked up again. "Do you love him?"
Thinking about how Wentworth had been unreachable for so long, Matilda said, "I don't know, but since I married him, I can't get close to other men."
Ethan looked at her with confusion.
Then he smiled faintly. "You'd make up a reason like that just to reject me? I actually had someone check—there's no marriage record for you two at City Hall."
"How is that possible?" Matilda was certain she and Wentworth had gotten married. They'd gone to City Hall together.
She told Ethan, "Think whatever you want. Even if I'm not married, I still have a boyfriend."
With that, she picked up her tray and left the cafeteria.
...
The border.
In a dense jungle, a fully armed special operations team was quietly approaching a heavily guarded camp.
Patrolling around the camp were tattooed armed militants carrying assault rifles.
Deep inside the camp, an iron shed held dozens of civilians—some covered in wounds, others barely intact, but all with ashen faces.
These people had been trafficked to this lawless region, initially forced into illegal labor. If they resisted, they'd be beaten or even face organ harvesting. They'd long given up hope of survival.
"Captain Gonzaga, 300 yards from target. Our reconnaissance drone has locked on."
A team member reported to Wentworth with a tactical tablet.
Wentworth said calmly, "Execute the plan."
The camouflaged advance team quickly dispersed, silently moving into predetermined positions.
"Ten o'clock, three persons; twelve o'clock, five persons, three armed; nine o'clock, one person... fire!"
Gunshots suddenly erupted, sending birds and animals fleeing through the jungle.
The camp immediately descended into chaos, thick with smoke. Wentworth led another group in a flanking maneuver from the rear.
Both sides exchanged heavy fire, with flashes of light and shouts intertwining.
Wentworth nimbly infiltrated the camp, searching according to the map transmitted by the drone.
After taking out three guards, he found the iron shed holding the civilians.
"Target located, two for cover!" Wentworth ordered.
When the people inside saw soldiers in camouflage uniforms, their previously lifeless eyes suddenly sparked with hope—someone had come to rescue them!
After a hail of bullets, the civilians were successfully transferred to large military trucks ahead. Wentworth and his teammates stayed behind to cover the retreat.
...
The next morning, the mission was finally complete.
In the military truck returning to base, his comrades were almost all asleep.
They'd been hiding in that jungle for four solid days, their stamina nearly depleted.
But Wentworth still couldn't sleep.
Back at base, he fell into insomnia again—perhaps only medication or sedatives could help him sleep.
...
That evening, Matilda returned to the dorm to see a missed call on her phone screen—from Wentworth.
She'd kept her phone off all afternoon while shadowing Leonard at the hospital, afraid of it ringing during class and being seen as inattentive.
She called back, but it showed unreachable again.
Opening WhatsApp, there were no messages from him.
She sighed and decided to study first, previewing the next day's course content to avoid struggling in class.
...
Over the weekend of the first training week, Matilda got a video call from Zoey.
"Matilda, are you in Brookford City too?" Zoey's voice was excited.
Matilda said, "Yeah, you are too?"
Yesterday she'd posted on social media with a photo of Brookford Medical Center's iconic building—anyone in the know could tell she was in Brookford City.
Zoey laughed. "I'm here too! My dad brought me. Matilda, my dad wants to take you to lunch."
"Oh? Is that appropriate?"
"Of course it is! You helped me in that escape room last time, and my dad hasn't thanked you yet."
"Didn't he already thank me?" Matilda was confused.
After all, Zoey's father had already given her the phototherapy equipment slot—didn't that count as thanks?