Chapter 64 Standing Still While Time Runs Out
"Mr. Cox, I need you to understand this is serious. Ms. Thorne's condition is critical—when I say she doesn't have much time left, I'm not exaggerating. You should contact Mr. Chapman immediately and find out what he intends to do."
Louis didn't wait for a reply. The moment he hung up, he dialed Rufus's number.
The ringtone went on for a full minute without an answer. Normally, Louis would have stopped after the first attempt, but this wasn't something that could wait. He tried again. Still no answer.
On the third call, someone finally picked up.
"Mr. Chapman," Louis said quickly, "Mrs. Chapman is in a bad way. The doctor says her organ failure is severe… she may only have a few days."
Silence. Long enough for Louis to glance at the phone, wondering if the call had dropped.
"Mr. Chapman?" he tried again. "The doctor recommends you come in person."
"Rufus isn't available right now, Louis. Is Cecilia's condition really that serious?" The voice wasn't Rufus's—it was Blair Ember.
Louis felt a prickle of unease along his scalp. Still, he kept his tone steady. "Yes, Miss Ember. If possible, please pass the message to Mr. Chapman."
"I'll let him know," Blair replied casually. "But Rufus truly doesn't have time to deal with this right now. And let's be honest—Cecilia has a history of lying and playing games. How do you know this isn't just another stunt? You don't need to panic."
Louis bit back what he wanted to say—that this time, Cecilia wasn't pretending. Maybe she had never been pretending. But he knew better than to argue with Blair.
Blair offered a way out. "If someone absolutely needs to be there, call my father. He can handle it."
She hung up before Louis could respond, cutting the conversation clean.
Louis stared at the phone, then turned toward the bed. Cecilia lay motionless, her breathing shallow, her skin a fragile shade between gray and white. She had heard every word, but her eyes stayed closed, her face unreadable—like the conversation had nothing to do with her.
Felix, the attending physician, had already pulled Louis aside earlier. His tone was grim. "She's deteriorating fast. We're talking hours, maybe days. You need a direct family member here."
After a long hesitation, Louis searched Cecilia's personal belongings and found her father Brad's number.
Brad sounded polite at first—until Louis explained why he was calling. The politeness vanished, replaced by irritation.
Only after Louis repeated, with emphasis, that Cecilia's life was in immediate danger did Brad grudgingly agree to come.
When Brad arrived, there was no trace of concern on his face. If anything, he looked annoyed, like a man dragged into an inconvenience he'd rather avoid.
One glance into the ICU at Cecilia—tubes in her arms, machines tracking every failing heartbeat—made his expression tighten, but not with worry.
"What the hell happened to her?" Brad demanded of Felix. "This is… unfortunate."
Felix kept his voice even, though Brad's indifference made his stomach turn. "She's in critical condition. Severe clotting disorder. Cancer cells suspected to have spread extensively. On top of that, the recent trauma caused massive blood loss and infection. She could die at any moment."
Brad listened, but his eyes wandered, as if the words were background noise.
"There's an experimental drug overseas," Felix continued. "It's still in clinical trials, but it might slow the spread of the cancer—buy us a little time. The odds aren't good, but it's something worth trying. That's why I need the legal guardian's consent."
"No," Brad cut in instantly, almost with relief. "She's already like this—why waste the money? And who knows what side effects that drug has? We're not turning her into a lab rat. Just keep her comfortable. If she has a few days left, so be it."
Felix stared at him, stunned. It was hard to reconcile the man's casual tone with the fact that his daughter was dying. That faint note of satisfaction in Brad's voice chilled him.
Without another word, Felix wrote Brad's decision into the medical record.
Cecilia stayed in the hospital that night, not for treatment so much as to wait for the inevitable.
Across town, in the estate, Rufus loosened his tie with a sharp tug. The clock on the wall read ten p.m. Cecilia should have been back hours ago—back to continue her penance.
His hand hovered over his phone more than once before he finally dialed her number.
The reply was the same each time: the cold, mechanical voice of the automated system telling him the phone was switched off.
Heat rose in his chest, sharp and bitter.
So… she'd learned a few tricks. Poisoning. Talking back. And now ignoring his calls, staying out all night? Did she think a minor injury gave her the right to do whatever she wanted? Or was this just another of her ploys to get his attention?
He thought of the cut on her forehead and let out a short, humorless laugh. His thumb slid over the screen, dialing Louis.
Louis answered almost immediately.
"Louis," Rufus said, his voice low and edged, "where is Cecilia? Why isn't she home?"
Louis swallowed. "Mr. Chapman… Mrs. Chapman isn't well. The doctor advised keeping her under observation. She's staying in the hospital tonight."
"Hospital?" Rufus's tone turned mocking. "Because of that little scratch on her forehead? She's milking it. What's the matter—does she find the hospital more comfortable than home? Or does she think she looks more pathetic there?"
Louis thought of Cecilia lying pale and still, the machines keeping her alive, and of Felix's grave expression. A chill ran through him. He took a breath.
"Mr. Chapman… the doctor said Ms. Thorne might not make it. She could have only days left. I tried calling you this morning, but couldn't get through, so I informed Mr. Ember. He came, but refused the experimental drug."