Forgotten Daughter, Unforgettable Comeback

Lilah Walsh had just returned from the countryside when a bucket of cold water drenched her before she could even step through the door.

For an instant, instinct urged her to fight back-but a sharp, disdainful voice cut through first. "Who knows what kind of germs you picked up out there? Since you're already soaked, you might as well wash up and get examined before setting foot inside."

Lilah's gaze hardened as it landed on Lachlan Walsh-her father, the man who had discarded her like unwanted baggage years ago.

Ignoring the startled servants rushing to restrain her, Lilah strode into the living room, water dripping from her hair and clothes. Without hesitation, she seized a glass from the table and flung its contents squarely at the maid who had drenched her. "Better to be physically sick than rotten to the core," she muttered evenly as she fixed her gaze on Lachlan, her voice cold enough to still the room.

Years back, Lilah's mother-Lachlan's first wife-had become seriously ill and eventually died after giving birth to Lilah. Within weeks, Lachlan had sent the infant Lilah to her grandmother's remote village and married his longtime mistress, the secretary who had warmed his bed for years.

For eighteen long years, not once had Lachlan bothered to visit Lilah.

Not long ago, after suffering serious injuries during her last mission, Lilah had been left with lingering complications. Her grandmother, believing Lilah's condition to be terminal, had reluctantly contacted Lachlan to send Lilah to his side for proper treatment.

Accepting that her days might be numbered, Lilah had agreed to return-partly to ease her grandmother's concern, and partly to make Lachlan answer for his past cruelty.

The weight of Lilah's gaze made Lachlan stiffen, a pulse of indignation tightening his features. He'd already confirmed with the doctor that Lilah's condition was terminal-half a month left at best. That was the only reason he'd caved to the old woman's plea. Yet, two full weeks had passed, and Lilah was not only alive but standing there, very much defiant.

Lachlan had agreed to bring Lilah back solely for the shares her grandmother still controlled, but the thought of Lilah's illness made his skin crawl. What if she were contagious? He'd counted on Lilah having the sense to refuse moving in, to spare them all the discomfort-but she hadn't.

Lachlan drew a breath to speak, his expression darkening like a gathering storm. But before he could say a word, a sharp voice cut through the air. "Watch your damn mouth! You should be grateful Dad even agreed to take you back!"

The interruption drew Lilah's gaze toward the staircase, where Elissa Walsh descended in a flurry of perfume and polished heels, every inch of her perfectly put together.

Elissa was Lachlan's younger daughter-his mistress's child-born only three months after Lilah.

Elissa sauntered up and looped her arm through Lachlan's with practiced sweetness. "Country bumpkins really don't know how to behave, do they?"

Lilah's lips curved in a smile brittle as glass. "You're right. I could never match your refinement-especially since I grew up without a father to teach me proper manners."

"Both of you, enough!" Lachlan barked, his patience snapping. "Stop bickering. This house is chaotic enough without your nonsense." His glare shifted to Lilah. "You're the older one here. Would it kill you to be nicer to your younger sister and hold your tongue for once?"

"Yeah." Lilah's casual answer shut Lachlan up, leaving a tight frustration at the corners of his mouth. "Look, I have my-condition, remember? I can't be expected to put up with other people's nonsense."

Lachlan appeared to be on the verge of exploding. After a while, he hissed, "You're going to the hospital tomorrow. I'll arrange another psychiatric evaluation. You clearly need a more thorough assessment."

"Dad," Elissa whined, clinging to his arm and trying to drive Lilah out, "I was scared of being infected!"

He kept his temper tucked away and soothed Elissa with indulgent, practiced patience. Turning toward Lilah, he stated firmly, "Until the examination is finished, you'll stay in the room beside the garden. Behave yourself if you want to stay in this house."

Lilah gave a small, unbothered smirk and followed the servant without answering.

From behind her, Elissa's shrill voice carried after her. "That room is Dillon's studio! He loses it when anyone touches his things. Sleep there if you must, but don't lay a finger on anything! And the one next door is Frank's storage room. Every item in there is worth a fortune. Lay a hand on anything, and you'll regret it for the rest of your life."

"Elissa Walsh." Lilah's voice cut through the air like a blade.

Elissa stopped short, wariness flickering in her eyes. "What?"

A gleam of cold amusement curved Lilah's lips as her gaze pinned Elissa in place. "Keep yapping, and I'll move into your room instead."

Under the weight of mixed fury and dread, Elissa's expression crumpled.

Lilah looked delighted with Elissa's reaction, her tone languid yet laced with quiet cruelty. "You're barely three months younger than me. My mother was still alive when you were born. That makes you living proof of Lachlan's unfaithfulness during his marriage. And you dare to talk to me like that?"

Elissa stood rooted to the spot before breaking down in sobs.

Unbothered, Lilah slung her bag over her shoulder and strolled toward the room.

Once inside, she shut the door and let the quiet settle around her. Pulling out her phone, she scrolled through a few unread messages, replying to each in turn. She had just set the device aside when it began to ring.

A high-pitched wail came through the speaker. "Took you long enough! I was losing my mind thinking you'd disappeared for good!"

Lilah instinctively pulled the phone away, letting the hysterics play out until the sobbing on the other end dwindled. Only then did she bring the phone back to her ear. "You done wailing yet? If you don't have anything important to say, I'm hanging up."

"Wait, wait! I actually have something important!"

"Then spit it out."

"I just heard the bastard who ambushed you didn't die after all. He's seriously injured-and he's hunting down the miracle doctor, Panacea."

Lilah's gaze hardened as she remarked, "Darn. Tough bastard. Still kicking after all that."

Half a year ago, Lilah had clashed with Blackhawk on the open water-a brutal fight that ended with her putting two bullets straight into his vitals. She'd been certain he wouldn't crawl out of that. Yet somehow, he had.

She hadn't fared much better. The blast had left shrapnel buried deep in her skull and a wound that never truly healed, which was why her grandmother had mistaken it for a terminal illness.

Before Lilah could respond, a piercing ache ripped through her head. Her fingers twitched, the phone nearly slipping from her grasp as her body refused to obey her will.

Lilah fumbled through her bag, her fingers trembling as she pulled out a bottle of pills. With effort, she shook a few into her palm and swallowed them dry.

Gradually, the ghostly hue drained from her face, leaving behind a trace of color.

On the other end of the line, Cory Higgins, her assistant, immediately caught the shift in her breathing. "Lilah, are you having another episode? Don't panic-the team is already running simulations for various emergency scenarios. The lab is pushing the new formula ahead of schedule based on the information you have provided..."

While his voice carried frantic concern, Lilah's tone stayed level, almost detached. "If luck isn't on my side and I don't make it till the surgery, tell them to keep at it. Their work will eventually save someone who needs it."

Cory hesitated, wanting to protest, but she didn't give him the chance and ordered, "Circulate a rumor that Panacea is overseas. Let Blackhawk chase ghosts. I'm the only one who can perform this operation, and as long as you don't help him alleviate the pain, he'll stay in agony. Consider it payback."

A cold light burned through her frail features. "Blackhawk wants me dead?" Her lips curved faintly as she muttered, "Then he'd better reserve his own grave first."

She ended the call, set the phone aside, and let exhaustion drag her under.

When she finally stirred, sunlight was already spilling across the room-it was well into the afternoon.

Her eyes needed a moment to focus, and when they did, a faint, self-mocking laugh escaped her lips. The great Panacea, the miracle doctor praised by the world, couldn't even cure herself.

A soft buzz cut through her thoughts. Her phone lit up with a message-a shared location and three simple words. "Waiting for you."

It was from an old friend. Her fingers lingered on the screen, hesitating, as she was unsure whether to go.

Just then, the device vibrated with a message, and the sender introduced himself as Albin Dawson.

Confusion lingered as she frowned at the message. When no memory of Albin surfaced, she ignored the message altogether.

But Albin didn't give up. The phone rang again. And again. With a weary sigh, Lilah finally swiped to answer.

"Is this Panacea?" The voice was low, tentative-almost reverent.

Lilah didn't recognize the voice. Without a word, she ended the call. Choosing to meet her friend after all, she stepped out of the room.

At the same time, in a high-end hospital office, Albin, the director, dabbed the cold sweat from his brow and risked a glance at the man lounging on the sofa. "Mr. Spencer, perhaps Panacea is just busy-or maybe the number has changed. I'll... keep trying to reach Panacea."

Cayden Spencer, legs crossed with effortless composure, inclined his head slightly. "Appreciate it."

Even that quiet reply carried a weight of authority.

Albin, still slick with nervous perspiration, went back to making frantic calls.

Panacea had always been an enigma-few had ever met her, not even the elite specialists who'd once worked with her. Her identity and location were shrouded in secrecy.

Albin had only obtained Panacea's number after begging his mentor for a favor.

"Mr. Spencer! We've got something!" a subordinate called from the hallway.

Hope flashed across Albin's weary face. "You found a lead on Panacea?"

Cayden rose in one smooth motion, his expression turning razor-sharp as he strode out of the room.

...

"Keep going-good, just two more steps forward." Lilah offered an encouraging smile. "Feeling tired? Want to take a break?"

Lilah handed a bottle of water to a delicate-looking girl whose determination burned brighter than her frail appearance suggested. Even now, the girl stubbornly shook her head and pushed through her rehabilitation routine.

Lilah didn't interfere. She had recognized that fierce will the first day they had met-by pure chance-and she respected it.

At that moment, Lilah's phone buzzed. Cory's name flashed across the screen. "Someone tried tracing your IP using your number," he reported briskly. "I caught it before they got anywhere."

Lilah raised an eyebrow. Whoever that was, they weren't an amateur. She'd built her own security system, layer by layer, and this was the first time anyone had gotten that close. She asked in an even tone, "From GhostNet?"

"No. The method is similar to Penumbra's style, but nowhere near as refined."

At that name, a flicker of emotion crossed her face. Penumbra was the legend of the hacking world, the one whose retirement had left a void no one could fill. Penumbra had once offered her guidance in hacking. Even now, she couldn't help but feel a trace of regret over his retirement.

"I've tightened your defenses. No one's tracing you now." Cory's easy confidence carried through the line, followed by a thoughtful pause. "By the way, you've heard of the Spencer family, right? Big players in Rulpus. They just put up a billion-dollar bounty to have you perform a surgery."

Realizing his slip, he rushed to soften it. "Not that a billion even comes close to what you're worth."

Lilah offered no response. The call ended with a quiet click. Melancholy clouded her gaze-she knew she was in no condition ever to set foot in an operating room again.

Bitterness tightened her chest, but then her attention shifted to the girl before her, who had slipped in the mud and was struggling upright, stubborn and fierce.

Sunlight broke through the clouds, brushing the girl's profile in gold-a glimpse of raw defiance, fierce and unyielding.

That same spirit mirrored the man in the oncoming car.

"Mr. Spencer, we're less than a kilometer from Panacea!" exclaimed Saul Tucker, the subordinate seated beside Cayden. He gripped the edge of his seat as the distance shrank, his pulse quickening with every turn of the car.

"Eight hundred... Five hundred-damn it! We've been cut off!" Saul slammed a fist against the console as the signal vanished. Jaw tight, he frantically retried the tracker, even dialing the number Albin had managed to get-only to hear the cold tone of a disconnected line.

Running a hand through his hair in defeat, Saul muttered, "Sorry, Mr. Spencer. But if Panacea is anywhere in Rulpus, I'll find her-even if I have to turn the whole city upside down."

Cayden's expression didn't flicker. His deep voice came steady and low. "Turn the car around. We're heading back."

The wheel had barely shifted before the driver blurted out in alarm, "Mr. Spencer, look-could that be Miss Spencer?"

Cayden, who had been resting with his eyes closed, opened them to see a disheveled figure sprawled on the ground, and for a heartbeat, he froze.

"Who is that woman? Is she bullying Miss Spencer? I'll go down and grab her right now!"

Cayden's expression fell as he bellowed, "Stop the car!"

The car screeched to a halt.

Just as Cayden reached for the car door, about to hop out, he noticed Ava Spencer-his younger sister-already on her feet, smiling at the woman beside her with an innocence and brightness he hadn't seen since the crash. He couldn't bring himself to interrupt the moment.

After a long while, Cayden ordered curtly, "See who that woman with Ava is."

Ten minutes later, Saul returned with an update. "Mr. Spencer, I've dug something up. Three months ago, that woman collapsed on the street and was rescued by Miss Spencer. Since then, the two have stayed in close contact."

He hesitated before adding, "A while back, when Miss Spencer vanished for three days and left a message asking us not to search for her, it was tied to that woman. I'm still working on her background."

Over the years, countless women had tried every possible trick to get close to Cayden. But this one had gone further-dragging Ava into it. To be noted, she was the only person Ava willingly interacted with.

Cayden's gaze sharpened. That woman was dangerous.

"The woman's name is Lilah Walsh, daughter of Lachlan Walsh and his first wife. She grew up in the countryside," Saul continued, his tone tightening. "Lately, the Walsh family has been desperate to win the development project for the land in the West District. Previously, they sent Elissa Walsh to seduce you, hoping to seal the deal, but she failed. This might be their new approach."

Before Cayden could respond, the driver suddenly exclaimed, "Mr. Spencer, look-Miss Spencer is in danger!"

Cayden's head snapped up just in time to catch a soccer ball cutting through the air toward Ava's temple. His expression hardened, instincts taking over before thought could catch up. He rushed out of the car and sprang forward, every muscle coiled with urgency. Ava's frail condition made her too fragile to take even a glancing hit.

Right before the ball could crash into Ava, a figure darted out ahead of Cayden, leaping into the air and twisting mid-motion. Her foot connected with the ball in a clean, explosive strike, sending it hurtling back with deadly precision.

The way the ball tore through the air made the strength behind that kick undeniable.

The next second, a piercing scream ripped through the air.

Moments later, a pack of young men swaggered over, circling Lilah with sneers and demands. Their leers turned predatory once they got a good look at her, and crude jokes spilled from their mouths.

Lilah's eyes hardened. These thugs had deliberately kicked the ball toward Ava-just to torment a girl in a wheelchair. They had no idea whose wrath they'd just unleashed!

Lilah acted swiftly. In a blink, the thugs were already on the ground, groaning and clutching their ribs in sheer agony.

"Fuck off!" Lilah snarled.

Terror wiped the smirks from the thugs' faces. They scrambled to their feet and bolted.

The entire scuffle ended before Ava even managed to pull up Cayden's number. Her eyes widened in awe. "Lily, you... You are absolutely incredible," she stammered, barely managing to form a coherent sentence.

Before Lilah could respond, a piercing pain shot through her skull. The world tilted, her vision dimmed, and she collapsed-right into Cayden's steady arms as he rushed forward.

Cayden's expression hardened, eyes narrowing with a trace of cold suspicion. The Walsh family truly had an agenda.

By the time Lilah stirred again, the car was already rolling toward the Walsh family residence. Her lashes fluttered weakly, catching glimpses of Cayden beside her.

The car rolled to a halt in front of the Walsh family residence, and Lilah got out of the vehicle wordlessly.

Watching Lilah disappear beyond the gates, one of Cayden's subordinates remarked in a low voice, "This Walsh daughter handles herself far better than the last one."

Cayden stayed silent, but the stillness in his gaze spoke volumes. He glanced at Ava, fast asleep beside him, her breathing soft and even. Gently retrieving her phone, he scrolled through the chat history with Lilah-only to find every message gone, wiped clean without a trace. What could they have been hiding that required such secrecy?

His thoughts drifted to the display of skill Lilah had shown earlier. If the Walsh family dared to use Ava for their own gain, he wouldn't hesitate to crush them.

"Don't make things difficult for Lily," Ava murmured sleepily, her voice tinged with quiet stubbornness. Even half-awake, she recognized that dangerous glint in her brother's eyes-the one that meant someone was about to regret crossing him.

"I won't. Get some rest." Cayden's tone softened despite himself; when it came to Ava, he would never push back.

The accident two years ago still haunted Cayden. He should've been the one crushed under the wreckage, but Ava had thrown herself in front of him. He'd escaped with a mild concussion and fragments of lost memory, while she was left unable to walk. Since then, he had scoured every lead, every whisper of hope-searching endlessly for the elusive Panacea who might heal Ava. But Panacea remained out of reach.