Chapter 85 Pregnancy Makes You Forgetful
"Denny, listen to me. Give me that concert ticket."
Quinley reached out her hand toward Dennis. Dennis looked confused as he clutched the ticket, refusing to hand it over.
"What's wrong with you? You already gave this to me—why do you want it back?"
Going to a live concert had always been his dream. Besides, this concert was happening right here in Rosewood City—a rare opportunity that wouldn't come again. And last night when he'd received the ticket, he'd already shared the good news with his roommates, who had also bought tickets so they could all go together.
"Denny, I promise I'll buy you another one later." Quinley kept her hand outstretched.
"Do you know how hard these tickets are to get? He's never going to perform in Rosewood City again." Dennis looked at Quinley stubbornly, tears welling up in his eyes.
"Denny, I'm sorry." Quinley wouldn't budge.
Finally, Dennis threw the ticket at Quinley in a fit of anger, pulled the covers over his head, and started crying audibly.
Quinley wanted to comfort him, but the words stuck in her throat. She knew the truth, but Dennis didn't. The whole situation was too complicated—she didn't know how to explain it to Dennis. All she knew was that they couldn't keep that ticket.
After thinking it over, Quinley sent the concert ticket by express delivery to the Davis Group, addressed to Kevin. Since he had connections with Susan, he would understand her message when he received the package.
Quinley wanted Susan to show herself. Only when everyone was operating in the open could she figure out her next move.
Right after Quinley sent the package, she got a call from a nurse. "Ms. Elikin, your brother is demanding to be discharged."
Quinley hurried upstairs to find that Dennis had already packed his things. Despite his injured leg, he was stubbornly dragging his belongings toward the door.
"Denny, stop being ridiculous. Your leg isn't healed yet." Quinley went to stop him, taking the bag from his hands. Dennis couldn't compete with her strength and eventually let go.
"I know whether I'm better or not. The doctor said there's nothing seriously wrong with me. I want to be discharged and go back to school."
Dennis wasn't even twenty yet—mentally, he was still a child. Since Quinley had taken away his concert ticket, he was throwing a tantrum and rebelling in this childish way.
But Quinley didn't patiently coax and persuade him like she used to. "Fine. I'll handle your discharge paperwork."
Quinley was unusually calm as she quickly processed Dennis's discharge. She carried his things while walking ahead, with Dennis following behind step by step. Neither of them spoke.
The midday sun was intense, shrinking their tall and short figures into two equally sized, blurred shadows.
At the hospital entrance, Quinley hailed a taxi for Dennis and put all his belongings in the trunk. Dennis climbed into the car and turned his head away, not saying a single word to Quinley from start to finish.
She'd paid off his three million in loan shark debt, gotten him out of that huge mess, and carefully taken care of him for so long—but all of that couldn't compare to the meaning of one concert ticket in his heart.
Family could bring warmth, but sometimes it could also bring coldness.
After seeing Dennis off, Quinley went to Colin's room. The doctor came for a consultation and said Colin's recovery was going well. He only needed regular follow-up visits, and the doctor suggested Colin could be discharged.
"Thank you... thank you," Colin mumbled, repeatedly thanking the doctor.
Finally, a smile bloomed on Marlee's face. She busily packed up things in the hospital room, with Quinley helping.
Suddenly, Quinley discovered two expensive gifts among Marlee's belongings. "Mom, who gave you these gifts?"
Quinley asked curiously.
While continuing to pack, Marlee replied, "Didn't you bring these yesterday? You said they were from your former colleagues. Did you forget so quickly? Quinny, your colleagues are so nice. Since your dad's being discharged soon, why don't you arrange for them to come to our house? I'll cook them a good meal."
"Yesterday when?" Quinley asked suspiciously.
Marlee stopped what she was doing and looked at Quinley with concern. They say pregnancy makes you forgetful—was Quinley already getting absent-minded right after getting pregnant?
"Last night, of course. You said you ran into those colleagues at the hospital entrance and had dinner together. You even brought your dad some takeout roasted turkey—look, he hasn't finished it yet!"
Marlee pointed to the takeout box on the bedside table. Gilded Gobbler. Quinley immediately recognized the logo.
"Mom, I need to step out for a moment." Quinley dropped what she was doing and quickly left the hospital room.
Gilded Gobbler wasn't far from the hospital. Quinley practically ran the whole way there.
It was afternoon, so the restaurant had no customers. A few staff members were gathered around playing cards.
"Lunch service is over," one of the workers said, waving Quinley away when she entered.
But Quinley didn't stop—she walked straight to the cashier counter.
"Hello, my family member is missing. She was here last night. Could I look at your security footage?"
A plump middle-aged woman sat at the register, scrolling through videos on her phone. Without even looking up at Quinley, she flatly refused. "No."
Quinley was smart—she knew that asking to see security footage randomly would never be allowed. But in this world, there were always ways to turn a "no" into a "yes." After three years with Zachary, she'd learned quite a few of those methods.
"I see. Could I use your restroom then?" Quinley clutched her stomach as if reaching for tissues, but smoothly slipped five pre-prepared bills into the woman's pocket.
Quinley knew how to work people, and the woman was quite cooperative. She glanced around, then deliberately raised her voice: "The restroom's in the back. This is a one-time thing, okay?"
With that, she stood up and led Quinley toward the back.
In the storage room, a computer monitor was on. The woman opened the door just a crack and told Quinley, "Ten minutes. Make it quick."
"Thank you." Quinley slipped inside tactfully.
She grabbed the mouse and clicked rapidly, rewinding the footage to last night's timeframe, then dragging through to search for that woman's figure.
Gilded Gobbler was busy in the evenings, with people coming and going constantly. Quinley's eyes were practically glued to the screen as she searched carefully through the footage.
Suddenly, a familiar figure entered her field of vision. That woman appeared. Even though she was wearing a mask, Quinley recognized her immediately.
She was wearing a white dress identical to Quinley's, carrying the two boxes of food meant for Colin. She didn't dine there—just picked up the takeout and left.
But just as she was about to exit Gilded Gobbler, she suddenly turned around, removed her mask, and made a "V" sign with her fingers toward the camera.