Chapter 278 I Do Willingly
Lina watched Hannah's figure walk to the end of the hallway until she disappeared from sight. Lina turned around and looked at Alexander, who was still sitting dazed in his chair.
"Did you see that?" Lina walked back and leaned against the desk, arms crossed over her chest, looking down at him.
"How much harm it caused Hannah when Caroline stopped being her therapist."
Alexander kept his head down and mumbled a response.
Lina continued, her tone not softening, "If one day Hannah learns the truth, learns that Caroline is dead, learns that she'll never see her again, what do you think will happen to her?"
Alexander's fingers clenched suddenly.
"She'll break down." Lina finished the sentence for him. "She might hurt herself, might kill herself, or might give up treatment completely. By then, you'll have indirectly killed one more person."
It was clear that Alexander's body was shaking.
He bit his own lip, bit so hard he tasted blood in his mouth. But he still couldn't suppress the shaking that surged up from deep inside his body.
Lina let out a short, cold laugh.
"So you have to stay alive." Lina suddenly leaned down, bringing her face very close, as if forcing him to face these words directly.
"You're not living for yourself, you're living for those people you've dragged into this. If you stay alive, at least you can still do something."
Alexander looked up, staring straight at her.
His eyes were terribly red, but it seemed like all his tears had already dried up. He could only squeeze out broken sobs from his throat, like his breathing was stuck.
After a long time, he nodded.
Lina stopped. She turned around and started putting the files on the desk in order, stacking the papers neatly with quick, precise movements.
Alexander stared at her busy back for a long time. Finally he lowered his head, opened his notebook, and wrote a few lines on a new page.
[Hannah: When trust is suddenly cut off, the rebound is often worse than the beginning. The news of Caroline's death will destroy Hannah.]
He had to live so that he could do more for the patients Caroline had helped.
After a full day's work, Alexander returned to the old mansion when it was already completely dark.
Alexander took off his leather shoes and suddenly stopped as he entered the living room.
Mark was sitting on the couch in the living room, not at the hospital.
After several days of rest, his face was still pale, with heavy dark circles under his eyes, clearly not sleeping well. Mark looked up when he heard footsteps, and the moment he saw Alexander, his whole body relaxed with relief.
"Sir, you're back."
Alexander frowned, "Why did you leave the hospital? Didn't the doctor say you needed to stay a few more days?"
"I couldn't stand it." Mark lowered his head, gripping the blanket on his lap tightly.
"I was at the hospital, feeling uneasy the whole time. You were out there, and I didn't know what you were up to or if you were okay. I... I had to leave.
Alexander looked at Mark, was silent for a moment, then walked over and sat down on the sofa.
Mark turned to look at him, hesitated for a long time, but finally spoke, "Sir, do you really trust that Lina?"
Alexander didn't answer.
Mark's tone became more urgent, "I'm not saying she's definitely lying to you, but she used to be with Mrs. Hamilton. Mrs. Hamilton died because of you... how could she not hate you? She's having you work as an assistant at the clinic—who knows what she really wants to do? What if she's looking for a chance to get revenge on you, what if she—"
"Mark." Alexander interrupted him.
"I know." Alexander's voice sounded more like a sigh. "I know she hates me. She should hate me. Everyone should hate me."
Mark froze.
Alexander suddenly smiled, a smile without warmth, "But she's right."
"I have to stay alive, not for myself, but for those people I've dragged into this. If I stay alive, at least I can still do something. If I die, there's nothing left. So even if she really wants to destroy me, I accept it."
Mark's eyes reddened.
Mark lowered his head, still gripping the blanket tightly, his knuckles white. Mark took a deep breath before managing to steady his voice.
"Sir, are you hungry? I had the kitchen keep the soup warm. Would you like some?" Mark tried to force a smile.
Alexander shook his head, "I'm not hungry."
Mark's lips trembled, and he didn't insist.
Mark could guess that Alexander wasn't not hungry—he just couldn't eat.
The servants had mentioned that during the days Mark was unconscious, Alexander had barely eaten anything, had gotten even thinner than before, his features had changed. Mark also understood that forcing Alexander to eat right now would only make things worse.
Mark could only give the nearby servants a look, signaling them to prepare as usual, not to push, and to keep the food ready to serve at any time.
After a long silence, Alexander spoke again, "Mark, I want to see Damon."
Mark paused, "See him?"
"I want to buy the Neville family's old mansion next door."
Mark's nose suddenly stung.
That was where Caroline grew up, the house she lived in during her youth. Alexander wanted to keep that place, even if it was just an empty house, even if she would never come back.
"Okay." Mark nodded hard. "I'll take care of it tomorrow."
Alexander nodded and said nothing more.
Alexander leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Before long, his breathing became steady.
Mark sat beside him, gently covered him with the blanket, and quietly watched over him.
The next morning, Alexander appeared at the clinic entrance right on time.
When Lina's car turned the corner, she saw him from a distance. Lina frowned, parked the car, turned off the engine and got out.
"I thought you wouldn't come." Lina walked up to him, her gaze sweeping across his face, as if checking whether he had backed down.
Alexander shook his head, "I'll definitely come. I need to atone."
Lina's eyebrow twitched slightly.
Alexander lowered his voice, "I don't know what I should do, but I at least have to do something. I can't watch more people get hurt because of me."
Lina smiled slightly, a smile that seemed to carry no clear emotion. She said nothing, just turned and opened the clinic door.
Alexander took a deep breath and walked in.
This morning's visitor was special.
"You'd better prepare yourself mentally first." Lina handed him a file.
Alexander opened the folder, his eyes landing on the diagnosis section, his fingers pausing.
Schizophrenia.
"Her name is Elena." Lina spoke from across the room.
"She's thirty-two years old, single, no family. She's been sick for six years, always getting maintenance treatment at a community clinic. But recently the community clinic closed. She doesn't have money to go to a proper psychiatric hospital, and after going around in circles, she found me. I'm seeing her for free."
Alexander pressed his lips together tightly and said nothing.