Chapter 3 He Has No More Than Twenty Minutes Left

Emma dipped her head once and lowered herself into the car.

As the door shut, the driver, Tom Briggs, stole a glance at her through the rearview mirror. His eyes paused on the red mark on her face, and an old memory surfaced unbidden. The calm poise she carried was uncannily similar to her birth mother, Mary Pearson, when she was young-cool, dignified, and impossible to overlook.

The engine roared to life, and the car shot forward, kicking up dust that drifted back and settled squarely on the three figures who had followed her outside.

Maggie coughed, her face contorting. "That ungrateful girl! No upbringing at all. We were far too lenient with her just now!"

Then something occurred to her. Her eyes widened, and her voice rose sharply. "Hold on-wasn't that car featured on the cover of last week's financial magazine? How on earth did that hideous woman end up riding in something like that?"

Jason remained silent. His brows were drawn tightly together as his gaze followed the departing limited-edition Bugatti.

That vehicle wasn't something money alone could secure.

Katherine observed him from the corner of her eye, thoughts spinning quickly. "Did Emma arrange all of this ahead of time?" she said slowly. "Otherwise, the timing is too perfect. And the way she got into that car... she looked far too accustomed to it. It couldn't have been her first time. Maybe she knows some loaded guy."

Jason's expression darkened at once. The muscles in his jaw clenched, and the veins along his clenched hands stood out starkly.

...

Inside the moving car, Emma finally broke the silence. "Tom, where are we headed?"

"Tulip Villas," Tom replied. "It's roughly a two-hour drive. You should rest."

A brief flash of surprise crossed Emma's eyes. Tulip Villas was known as the most tightly guarded residential area for Glexdale's elite.

She pushed aside her questions for the moment and spoke again. "Tom, could we stop by Grace Memorial Hospital first?"

"Are you not feeling well?" Concern immediately edged into his voice.

"No." Emma's gaze dimmed slightly. "I want to see Alexander Baxter one last time before I go."

Among the Baxters, Jason's grandfather had been the only one who ever treated her with genuine warmth.

At Grace Memorial Hospital, Emma navigated the corridors with familiarity until she reached Alexander's room.

Lying in the bed, he was still unconscious. The illness had drained him terribly-his body frail, each breath shallow and strained.

Emma's eyes burned. She reached out and gently wrapped her fingers around his cold hand.

"Emma?"

A calm, familiar voice sounded behind her.

She blinked, steadying herself, and turned around. Seeing the man, she gave a small nod. "Dr. Andrews. How is he doing?"

Nate Andrews followed her gaze to the bed and released a long, heavy sigh. "The outlook isn't good. The cancer has metastasized. At this stage, conventional treatments are unlikely to make much difference."

Emma pressed her lips together, and then pulled a small vial from her pocket and casually tossed it to Nate.

He caught it, studying the container with confusion. Suddenly, his eyes widened.

"That's... a miracle drug for cancer. Only ten vials have ever been released worldwide. Where on earth did you get this?"

Nate's gaze lingered on Emma, deep in thought.

He added, "About a year ago, I faced a case that had me stuck for two weeks. You just happened to walk by, took one glance, and solved it. Since Alexander was admitted, you've pulled him back from the edge more times than I can count."

He stared at her, disbelief plain in his eyes.

"Emma... who exactly are you?"

But Emma's face remained unreadable, clearly uninterested in revealing anything more.

Nate dropped the subject, shifting gears. "You've been nothing but a blessing to the Baxters, and yet look how they've treated you. You deserve better than that..."

Before he could finish, Emma interrupted with a dry, faint smile. "Please take care of Alexander for me."

This medicine had nothing to do with Jason or any of the family drama. It was simply the last favor she could do for the old man.

With that, she turned to leave. As she passed by the adjacent ward, she glimpsed a flurry of doctors gathered in urgent discussion.

"Mr. Miller's condition has taken a sharp turn for the worse. It's critical!"

"At this point, surgery is the safest option."

"Let's hold off a little longer. The family is expected within the next thirty minutes."

Emma's gaze cut through the chaotic scene, settling on the frail, pale figure lying unconscious in the bed.

The constant beeping of the heart monitor filled the room with tension.

Her voice was calm but steely as she spoke, slicing through the noise. "He has no more than twenty minutes left. If you don't operate now, he won't make it."