Chapter 80
Isabella's figure swayed, about to faint again.
Jasper quickly stepped forward to steady her. When he looked at Sophia again, his eyes were completely unfamiliar: "I really never thought you could do something so cruel. Sophia, you've disappointed us so much."
Gregory had frozen completely. The video had finished playing, but he forcibly grabbed the phone away and, with trembling hands, clicked it open again. Sophia's voice from the video rang out once more. He just stared fixedly at the other person, who was in so much pain she couldn't even cry out, his eyes frighteningly red.
Sophia lunged forward, trying to snatch the phone away, but Gregory blocked her.
She shrieked: "Stop watching, Gregory! It's all fake, it's edited! That video is edited! You can't let her fool you! Why would she have this video? Emily, you bitch, what grudge do you have against me that you'd frame me like this? Go to hell!"
She seemed to have lost her mind. She grabbed the kettle nearby and hurled it at me.
I instinctively raised my hands to block it, thinking this was bad—there was boiling hot water in there. My face that I'd worked so hard to fix was probably going to be ruined again.
A figure shielded me. The expected sharp pain didn't come. All I heard was a man's muffled grunt. In my panic, I looked up to see Oscar's face, frowning but smiling at me: "Good thing you're okay."
I quickly got up and saw steam still rising from Oscar's back. Hot water was streaming straight down his back, and his entire shirt was completely soaked through.
I fumbled around frantically, having lost all reason, wanting to help him take off his clothes. Robert reacted faster than I did. "Don't move! Don't take the clothes off yet. Be gentle."
Only then did everyone else react. Robert shouted loudly at the butler: "Quick, call the doctor! No, the driver, bring the car to the door! We need to get him to the hospital, hurry!"
Gregory reached out and roughly pushed Sophia aside, quickly coming to our side: "How are you, Uncle Oscar? Are you okay?"
Sophia lost her balance and fell to the ground. She clutched her belly in terror, her voice shrill: "My stomach, my stomach hurts! The baby—save my baby!"
But almost everyone had gathered around Oscar, and no one paid her any attention. Perhaps it wasn't that the Brown Family members didn't want to care—it was that right now, they were more concerned about whether Oscar would take his anger out on them because of this.
The driver quickly brought the car around. Oscar was still smiling at me: "Why are you crying? I'm fine. My clothes blocked it. Good thing this hot water didn't splash on your face, or if you got disfigured again, that would be trouble."
His words made me realize that tears were streaming down my face.
I wiped my tears and tried to smile at him: "Quick, get in the car. No, wait, don't move too much. Go slowly. Does it hurt?"
"With you caring about me like this, it doesn't hurt at all." Even at a time like this, he still had the mood to joke around.
Robert was about to get in the car too, but Gregory, who was behind him, stopped him: "Grandpa, you're not in good health. Don't put yourself through this. I'll go. I can help with the paperwork. You wait at home, and I'll call you with updates."
Robert looked at Oscar and could only step back reluctantly: "Emily, send me a message when you get to the hospital. I'll wait at home."
I just nodded at him randomly and quickly told the driver: "Go to the nearest hospital."
From the back of the crowd, Sophia's voice came through clearly again: "Gregory, you can't leave! You can't abandon me! Save me, save our baby!"
The car door was quickly shut, closing out her miserable crying. The driver stepped on the gas, and the car flew out.
Oscar was half-lying on my lap, looking up at me with a smile: "I didn't expect you to care about me so much. This is really the first time I've seen you cry. I have to say, you even cry beautifully."
I pressed my lips together and reached out to brush the hair falling by his eyes to the side: "Stop talking. We'll be at the hospital soon. Does it hurt?"
"With you talking to me like this, it doesn't seem to hurt that much." Oscar kept smiling at me, saying comforting words. "Really, stop crying. It breaks my heart to see you like this."
But how could it not hurt? I gently lifted the corner of his shirt and could see that a ring of white blisters had already formed on his lower back. Looking further up, I only glanced once before quickly putting his shirt back down. I could only be grateful we hadn't taken his clothes off right away, or else his back would have lost a layer of skin.
My hands were trembling. If I'd known this would happen, I shouldn't have dragged him along to watch the drama. That crazy woman, Sophia—she'd better pray Oscar was okay, or else I'd make her pay back double.
Gregory remained silent the whole time and didn't dare meet my eyes.
The car reached the emergency room as fast as possible. Oscar was wheeled into the operating room. Sitting outside the OR, I felt numb all over.
"Don't worry, Uncle Oscar will be fine." Gregory's hand gently rested on my shoulder, his voice small as he tried to comfort me.
I had no more energy for him, not even to toy with his feelings.
"Don't talk to me." If he had told everyone about Sophia's pregnancy right away, I wouldn't have had to remind them later, which led to her revenge.
Gregory's hand hesitated but didn't pull back: "I'm sorry. It's my fault."
I frowned and swatted his hand away hard, then sat with my head down, saying nothing more.
The glaring light above the operating room flashed on and off, making my heartbeat quicken.
A familiar voice came over: "Gregory, hurry up and come see Sophia. She might miscarry."
I looked toward the voice and saw the Brown Family members following closely behind doctors and nurses pushing a gurney. When Isabella saw Gregory, she couldn't help calling out.
Looking at the gurney, Sophia lay there deathly pale, without a trace of color. Her lower body seemed to be stained with blood—it looked truly frightening.
Sure enough, no matter what emergency happened, she could always end the drama by landing in the hospital.
Gregory glanced at me hesitantly but still stepped toward them: "How is she? Why is there so much blood?"
A nurse quickly pushed him aside: "Don't block the way. The patient needs surgery now. Family members wait outside."
Isabella's voice was urgent: "Please, you must save my daughter. She's been in poor health since childhood, and her heart isn't good either. You must be extra careful during the surgery."
Before she could finish, the doctors and nurses had already wheeled the patient into another operating room, shutting out her instructions.
I sat there in a daze, watching that family standing anxiously outside the operating room. Sure enough, nothing unexpected—even though they knew what Sophia had done, they still forgave her. As for Emma, whom Sophia had sold to Solstice, she had already become a tragedy, erased from everyone's conscience.
So why should I still be soft-hearted toward them?