Chapter 62 Blinded by Lies
Carl had seen countless patients over the years. Most met the shadow of death with either confusion or fear. But Cecilia… she spoke of it as if it were someone else's fate, her tone light, detached, almost careless. It unsettled him. She was young—too young—and by all accounts should have had years ahead of her.
His expression hardened. After a moment of quiet deliberation, he decided he needed to speak to Rufus.
Carl rose from his chair and crossed the room to where Rufus stood, aloof and silent, watching. Lowering his voice, he said with measured urgency, "Mr. Chapman, Mrs. Chapman's condition isn't right. This bleeding—it's not normal. Standard medication isn't working. Considering her surgical history and her long-term frailty… this is dangerous. Extremely dangerous."
"I strongly recommend you take Ms. Thorne to the hospital immediately for a full examination. Her body may be close to its limit."
"Limit?" Rufus let out a short, cold laugh. His eyes swept over Cecilia, lying pale and still on the bed. "Carl, you've fallen for her act too? She's done this before—pretending to be in the final stages of leukemia, remember?"
The memory of the pathology report she had once shown him—one he had dismissed as forged—flashed through his mind. His voice was edged with certainty. "She's a master at playing the victim."
Carl could see Rufus was entrenched in his belief. Persuasion would not come easily. But looking at Cecilia's lifeless face, the instincts of a doctor pushed him to try again.
"Mr. Chapman, I understand you have your reasons. But… what if this time it's real? The human body has limits. Even if—worst-case—she's acting again, taking her to the hospital will confirm it. If she's fine, you can deal with her afterward.
"At least that way, you won't risk leaving any lasting consequences. Don't you agree?"
Carl's words landed like a pebble dropped into a frozen lake, sending faint ripples across Rufus's hardened resolve.
"If she's fine, you can deal with her afterward…"
The logic was cold, pragmatic, but it gave Rufus pause.
He couldn't help recalling the changes in Cecilia lately—the way her body had grown thinner, the raw, jagged scar across her abdomen, the repeated episodes of weakness and unconsciousness.
And the look she had given him moments ago… eyes stripped of light, hollow as if life itself had already left them.
Was it all an act? Could anyone fake that emptiness?
A sliver of doubt, so small he almost refused to acknowledge it, stirred in his chest.
His gaze shifted to the blood at her temple, a slow, stubborn trickle that refused to stop. His brow furrowed. For the first time in a long while, he felt torn. Maybe… maybe it was worth going to the hospital, if only to expose her lies and put his mind at ease.
He drew breath, lips parting to give the order to prepare the car—when movement at his side caught his attention.
"Rufus."
Blair had appeared from the bedroom without a sound. She drifted closer, leaning into him with a delicate, boneless grace, her fingers curling into the fabric of his sleeve.
Lifting her wrist—marked with faint scratches—she tilted it toward him, her brows knitting as her voice trembled. "Rufus… my hand hurts. My head feels light. Will you come rest with me? Please… check my injury?"
Rufus hesitated.
Carl's frown deepened. "Mrs. Chapman's situation really can't wait," he said firmly.
Blair's eyes flickered with annoyance at the title. The urge to roll her eyes was almost irresistible. Carl clearly had no sense of timing—he couldn't see who mattered most to Rufus, and yet he spoke of Cecilia with such respect.
Carl, unaware of Blair's irritation, pressed on, detailing Cecilia's condition.
Blair turned her head slightly, feigning surprise as if she had only just heard. "Is Cecilia's condition really that serious? I thought we had a recent medical report showing she was perfectly healthy."
Then she looked up at Rufus, tears pooling in her eyes, her voice soft and full of dependence. "If you're going to take Cecilia to the hospital first… will you promise to come back quickly? I don't want to be alone. My hand hurts so much."
She let a few tears spill, perfectly timed.
The words Rufus had been about to speak vanished.
He looked at Blair's pale face, at the small wound on her wrist, and then back to Cecilia—her blood stark against the sheets.
That fragile thread of doubt snapped under the weight of his pity for Blair and his distaste for Cecilia's supposed theatrics.
Blair's reminder rang in his mind: Cecilia had undergone a full medical check not long ago, and nothing had been wrong.
Yet she kept collapsing, kept showing symptoms that begged for attention. Too convenient. Too familiar.
Yes… how could he let himself be fooled again?
Blair was the one who needed his protection. As for Cecilia—if she wanted to act, he would let her act until she tired of it.
The hesitation vanished from his face, replaced by the cold detachment that was second nature to him.
He patted Blair's hand, his voice gentling. "Alright. I'll take you upstairs."
Carl blinked, stunned at the blatant favoritism. Anyone could see who was more gravely injured, yet Rufus didn't hesitate to choose Blair.
In that moment, Carl understood the quiet resignation behind Cecilia's earlier smile.
Rufus turned to Louis, who had been standing by. "Stay here. Work with Carl. Keep me updated if needed."
He paused. "If she needs to be taken to the hospital, handle it. No need to inform me—use your judgment."
Without another glance at Cecilia—bleeding, hovering on the edge of life—Rufus guided Blair out of the room, leaving behind the coppery scent of blood.
Louis watched them go, then looked to Cecilia, still silent, still unmoving. He sighed and lowered his voice to Carl. "Dr. Ward, I'll take care of it. I'll make sure Mrs. Chapman gets to the hospital for a check-up. It's late—you've done enough for tonight. Go rest."
Louis's manner was courteous, his tone sincere, and Carl found no reason to argue.
He shook his head as Rufus's choice replayed in his mind. As a family doctor, he had done all he could. The rest was beyond his reach.
"Alright, Louis, it's in your hands now. You can see for yourself she's in bad shape." He paused, his voice dropping to a mutter. "I can't figure out what's gotten into Mr. Chapman… acting like nothing's wrong."