Chapter 137
A nurse burst out. "The patient's awake! She's conscious!"
Everyone immediately crowded around.
Chloe's eyelids fluttered a few times before slowly turning toward the people gathered at her bedside.
"Mom... Dad..." Her voice was barely a whisper, light as a feather.
Mrs. Anderson immediately rushed over. "My precious baby, you're finally awake!"
Chloe's eyes were still hazy. She looked around weakly. "Where... where am I? Did we switch hospitals?"
She turned her head.
"Where's my brother? Where did David go?"
At the mention of "David," Mrs. Anderson's crying stopped short. Her face twisted into an expression of resentment and contempt.
She wiped her tears, her voice turning shrill. "Why are you even bringing up that bastard! My foolish daughter, you have no idea—the doctor said your condition got worse, that things looked bad, and the moment he heard, he ran! Said... said he couldn't protect himself anymore, didn't have time to deal with you!"
"He basically abandoned you!" Leon chimed in, adding fuel to the fire.
The couple tag-teamed, painting David as the ultimate gold-digging, ungrateful scumbag.
Chloe's eyes slowly widened.
She didn't believe it.
She stared straight at the ceiling. No matter how much Mrs. Anderson wailed or how heartbroken Leon acted, she didn't give them another glance.
On that pale face was an almost stubborn calm.
"Sweetheart, why won't you believe your parents? That David is a cold-blooded bastard!" Mrs. Anderson, seeing she wasn't getting through, slapped her thigh in frustration.
Chloe's eyes finally moved. She slowly turned her head, her gaze sliding past Mrs. Anderson to the window outside the ICU.
She saw Juliana.
And Lucas standing beside her.
Her lips moved slightly.
"I want to see him."
"See who? That little bastard? Absolutely not!" Mrs. Anderson refused without thinking.
"I want to see my brother." She spoke each word deliberately, as if using every ounce of her strength. "If you won't let him come, I won't get treatment."
As she spoke, her hand reached for the IV needle in her arm.
"What are you doing!" Leon grabbed her hand, shocked and angry. "Have you lost your mind? Playing games with your own life!"
"My life, my choice." Chloe pulled her lips into a weak smile. "You said I'm dying anyway. What's the difference between dying now or later?"
Her reckless attitude completely panicked the Andersons.
They exchanged glances, both seeing the anxiety in each other's eyes.
……
Outside the ICU, Juliana's brow furrowed.
Brother?
Who was her brother? Why would these parents who supposedly loved their daughter so much refuse to let her see him?
Lucas's expression darkened. He took Juliana's hand and turned to leave.
"Other people's family drama—we should stay out of it."
"But her condition..."
"Not our problem." Lucas's tone was flat.
……
In the elevator, Juliana kept replaying the look in Chloe's eyes when she'd said "my brother."
It held dependence, trust, and a kind of desperate clinging to a last lifeline after being abandoned by the world.
What a strange family.
……
In the VIP room, the Andersons finally gave in.
"Fine, fine! You can see him!" Leon looked thoroughly annoyed, lowering his voice to Chloe. "But you have to promise—after you see him, you cut ties with that punk for good and focus on getting better!"
She closed her eyes—silent agreement.
Leon and Mrs. Anderson walked out of the room, their masks instantly shattering.
"This damn girl is nothing but trouble!" Mrs. Anderson stomped her foot in frustration. "Where the hell are we supposed to find this David?"
"We have to find him!" Leon irritably ran his hand through his hair, pulled out a cigarette and lit it, taking a deep drag. "They're breathing down our necks. If this girl doesn't cooperate with treatment and screws up what comes next, we're both screwed."
He walked to the end of the hallway and made a call.
……
David sat in the corner of a small bar.
He hadn't been to a place like this in forever.
His phone had been buzzing in his pocket for a while before he finally pulled it out.
Unknown number.
He hung up.
It rang again. Persistent.
"Yeah?" David answered.
"Mr. White, quite the temper." On the other end, Leon's voice dripped with sarcasm.
David's hand on his glass froze.
"It's me." Leon's voice carried a condescending magnanimity. "Want to see Chloe?"
David didn't speak, but his breathing noticeably grew heavier.
"I'm giving you a chance. Half an hour. Central Hospital, third floor VIP room. Remember—I'm giving you a chance. Don't be ungrateful."
"Oh, right." Like he'd just remembered something, he added in a tone practically oozing with malice, "Wear a mask when you come. That face of yours is too scary. The Andersons have a reputation to maintain."
The line went dead.
David stayed frozen, phone still at his ear.
Wear a mask.
Because the way he looked now was an embarrassment.
He suddenly hurled his glass at the floor.
The sharp crash sent glass shards flying.
People around him jumped.
Bar security quickly moved in.
David pulled some crumpled bills from his pocket, threw them on the table, stumbled to his feet, shoved through the crowd, and bolted out without looking back.
He had to go.
Even if they treated him like a dog, he had to go.
……
On the way to the hospital, Leon drove while Mrs. Anderson sat in the passenger seat. David sat alone in the back.
The air in the car was colder than a freezer.
"Mr. White, not to be rude or anything." Mrs. Anderson looked at him through the rearview mirror like he was a piece of muddy junk. "You're not getting any younger. Why are you still so clueless? What's our Chloe's status? What's yours?"
She clicked her tongue, her voice dripping with contempt.
"Look at what you're wearing. Does it all add up to a hundred bucks? Let me give you some advice—have some self-awareness. After you see Chloe, get lost and don't come around bothering her again. The Andersons have a reputation to protect."
Leon gripped the steering wheel and snorted. "Young man, when you've got nothing going for you, don't try to climb above your station. Chloe's too kind—you fooled her all these years. But we're her parents, and we're not blind."
The words were like ice-tipped needles, stabbing into David's eardrums one by one.
His jaw clenched so hard his teeth ground audibly. His hands balled into fists on his knees, nails digging into his palms.
He said nothing.
What was there to say? That the race car he used to drive—one wheel cost more than their whole car? That any random shirt in his closet could feed their family for a year?
No point. His old life didn't matter now.