Chapter 112 The Babies Are Set Up
Her anxiety was mounting by the minute. She was terrified something serious had happened to the children, so she reluctantly went to find Zane to request time off.
When Zane saw her approaching, he immediately looked exasperated. Before she could even speak, he launched into a lecture, "Arabella, what the hell was that back there? When Mr. Jennings complimented you, why couldn't you just be a little warmer toward him? That was so awkward I nearly lost my mind."
Arabella was speechless.
She could stand up to Gabriel without batting an eye—she certainly wasn't going to worry about some random executive. Besides, Allan's leering looks made her skin crawl. There was no way she was going to kowtow to him.
"Mr. Wright, I need to take an hour off. I'll be back this afternoon for normal work hours."
Zane's expression froze when he heard this. "Again? You're requesting leave again?"
"Yes, my children are sick..."
Zane stared at her with growing irritation, his face darkening with displeasure.
They stood in tense silence for several seconds before Zane finally waved his hand dismissively. "Fine, fine, go ahead. Don't call it leave though—I'll tell everyone I sent you out to deliver documents."
"Thank you, Mr. Wright." Arabella nodded gratefully with a slight bow, then hurried away.
As she left the building, she tried calling Mary again, but still no answer.
How strange.
Mary knew she'd be worried sick and would normally call immediately after the doctor's visit to update her. Not only had she not called, but now her phone seemed to be going straight to voicemail. Had she forgotten to bring it?
Arabella hesitated, then scrolled through her contacts until she found Gabriel's number, her finger hovering over it uncertainly.
————
At the hospital, Henry and Isabella had already seen the doctor and been prescribed medication. They were now waiting for infant massage therapy to help ease their symptoms.
Mary had been wanting to call Arabella for ages, but Gabriel had preemptively instructed Samuel to temporarily confiscate her phone "for safekeeping."
So all of Arabella's calls had gone unanswered.
Gabriel's mood was absolutely foul.
According to the doctor, the babies had developed severe gastroenteritis from consuming contaminated food, which was causing the violent vomiting and diarrhea.
When they heard this diagnosis, both Mary and the other nanny were horrified.
They were responsible for the children's daily feeding and care—if something like this happened, the blame would fall squarely on their shoulders.
"We've been feeding them exactly the same way we always have," Mary said, her face pale with panic as she hurried to explain. "Breast milk when it's available, formula when we need to supplement. We've always done it this way, and the babies have been perfectly healthy. How could this suddenly be a problem now?"
The nanny was equally panicked, insisting repeatedly that everything the babies came into contact with was strictly sterilized every day without exception.
Given Gabriel's position and wealth, his mind naturally turned to more sinister possibilities.
Even if Mary and the nanny were innocent, there were dozens of other staff members in the house. Someone could easily have been bought off to deliberately harm the children. He made a mental note that the entire household would need a thorough investigation.
When the doctor saw they couldn't identify the source of contamination, he asked, "What exactly did the babies eat last night and this morning?"
The nanny answered, "They had two feedings last night. Isabella had breast milk both times, Henry had breast milk once and special formula once."
"Isabella had only breast milk?" The doctor seemed to have found a lead.
"Yes, Isabella is a bit picky and prefers breast milk. So whenever there's stored breast milk in the refrigerator, we prioritize Isabella."
The doctor's expression cleared with understanding. "So... the breast milk wasn't fed directly from the mother, but pumped and stored?"
"Not always. When mom's home, she nurses directly. When she's at work, we use what's stored in the refrigerator. Last night I was going to bring the baby to Mrs. Sterling to nurse, but she was..." The nanny's voice trailed off as her eyes flicked toward Gabriel.
The previous night, when Gabriel had carried Arabella from the study to the master bedroom, the commotion had been loud enough for everyone in the house to hear.
Gabriel's face flushed with embarrassment for a moment before he turned to the doctor. "Could there be something wrong with the stored breast milk?"
"It's possible. If you still have any of yesterday's stored milk, we can test it. That would tell us exactly what went wrong."
Gabriel looked at Mary, who immediately responded, "I think there's still one bag left. We were going to warm it up this morning, but with all the vomiting, we got distracted cleaning up and never got to it."
"Then let's have that tested to see if the milk spoiled or if the storage bag was contaminated somehow," the doctor suggested.
Gabriel nodded and was about to instruct Samuel to go retrieve it when his phone started ringing.
Remembering Mary's missed calls earlier, Gabriel didn't even need to check the caller ID to know who it was.
He deliberately let it ring for a while, waiting until after he'd finished talking with the doctor before stepping away to answer.
Arabella was standing outside her office building, unable to hail a cab since she didn't know which hospital they'd gone to.
With Mary unreachable, Gabriel was her only option.
When she heard the man's voice, she tried to keep her tone even. "Are you still at the hospital? What did the doctor say? Are the babies alright?"
Gabriel held the phone, watching Mary and the nanny carry the children toward the massage therapy room, following at a distance.
Hearing her question, his eyes grew cold. "I thought you wanted a divorce so badly that you didn't care about the children anymore."
Arabella pressed her lips together. She'd expected his cutting remarks and forced herself to ignore them. "How are they really? I'm leaving the office now—should I go home or come to the hospital?"
Gabriel's voice was ice-cold, "Children's Medical Center of Excellence."
Then he hung up.
Arabella stared at her phone, her brow furrowed in frustration.
What kind of person was he?
She'd asked multiple times about Henry and Isabella's condition, and he'd refused to give her a straight answer, clearly trying to make her worry on purpose!
Though on second thought, maybe his refusal to elaborate meant the babies weren't in serious danger?
But if they were fine, why would they still be at the hospital nearly at noon?
Arabella's heart raced with anxiety as she hailed a cab to Children's Medical Center of Excellence.
During the ride, she received a call from Manuel asking about her house hunt.
With everything else on her mind, Arabella had no bandwidth for apartment searching. She replied briefly, "I've been swamped this week. Haven't found anything yet."
"I've got a place that might work for you, if you can't find anything else suitable. It's an apartment, around 400 square feet. Perfect size for someone living alone."
Manuel hadn't wanted to interfere too much, but he was worried about her ability to find something decent on her own. Over the past couple of days, he'd had someone locate a nice apartment and immediately purchased it.
Arabella had to admit she was tempted.
She didn't have time to look herself, and while Sophia was helping, she was busy with her own child. At this rate, who knew when she'd be able to move out of Parkside Estate.
When Manuel heard her silence, he knew she was interested and continued persuasively, "Don't worry, it belongs to a good friend of mine who's overseas and needs someone to look after the place. You'd pay rent like normal, just below market rate."
That made it even more appealing to Arabella.
But just as she was about to accept, her mind cleared and she said, "Manuel, thank you so much, but my friend actually found me a great place too. We're in negotiations now. If that works out, I won't need to trouble your friend."
It was a polite way of declining.
Manuel understood and smiled without pressing her. "Alright, check out your friend's place first. If it doesn't pan out, just give me a call."
"Okay, thank you, Manuel."
"Don't mention it."
After hanging up, Arabella let her phone drop into her lap and stared out the window, lost in thought.
Life felt like an uphill battle, bringing back memories of the hardships she'd endured as a child.