Chapter 16: She Slit Her Wrists... Editor: Henyee Translations

"Sophie... she... she slit her wrists! There’s so much blood..."

The next second, the car’s engine roared to life, and the gas pedal slammed to the floor.

The car shot forward.

Noelle Sutton instinctively gripped the overhead grab handle. Tristan Lawson ran every red light, swerving to avoid the other cars.

Sitting in the car, Noelle was getting dizzy from being thrown around. Tristan’s lips were pressed into a thin line, his face ashen.

Noelle wanted to tell him to slow down, but she was mute. A wave of nausea rolled through her stomach. Her brows furrowed in pain. But Tristan’s attention was focused entirely on the road.

Finally, they were home.

An ambulance was already parked at the entrance of Westhill Villa.

The moment the car stopped, Tristan bolted out.

Tristan Lawson was always steady and calm; Noelle had never seen him so flustered.

So even someone so composed can get this flustered...

Noelle felt bile rise in her throat. She quickly grabbed a few tissues, got out of the car, and stumbled toward a trash can. She emptied the contents of her stomach, feeling slightly better afterward.

She wiped her mouth and turned around to see Tristan Lawson emerging from the villa, carrying a blood-soaked Sophie Hughes. Her son, his face streaked with tears, followed behind Tristan.

The father and son got into the ambulance together.

The ambulance sped away.

Mrs. Miller saw Noelle Sutton. "Ma’am..."

Mrs. Miller’s heart ached for her. She walked over to Noelle. But Noelle suddenly collapsed.

"Ma’am..." Mrs. Miller rushed over and lifted Noelle’s upper body. "Ma’am, Ma’am..."

Seeing she couldn’t wake Noelle, Mrs. Miller immediately called Tristan Lawson. "Sir, it’s bad. Ma’am has fainted."

Tristan said irritably, "She just got back from the hospital. Her wounds were treated. Besides, how could a small wound like that make her faint?"

"Sir, Ma’am really..."

Tristan interrupted Mrs. Miller. "Stop bothering me with such trivial matters!"

With that, Tristan hung up.

Mrs. Miller had no choice but to call for another ambulance.

Ma’am fainted, and he calls it a trivial matter? How infuriating. It’s all that Sophie Hughes’s fault.

Mrs. Miller then remembered what she saw online: Tristan with his arm around Sophie Hughes’s shoulder, telling the media she was his aunt.

But his level of concern for Sophie Hughes is nothing like a nephew’s for his aunt.

Fortunately, the ambulance was not delayed and arrived quickly.

Mrs. Miller went with the ambulance to the hospital.

Noelle Sutton was taken into the emergency room, while Mrs. Miller paced anxiously outside.

Ma’am had always treated her very well. When Mrs. Miller’s husband had surgery last year, Ma’am had given her 100,000 dollars and a month of paid leave.

When she came back to work, she was prepared to use her salary to pay off the debt, but Ma’am said there was no need. The money was to be considered a gift to help with her husband’s medical bills.

Ma’am couldn’t speak, but in every other way, she was a wonderful person.

The master... and the young master...

Sigh...

After more than half an hour, Noelle Sutton woke up in the emergency room. She was at the same hospital she’d visited before.

"Ms. Sutton, given your condition, I must recommend that you be admitted. Fainting like you did today indicates your illness is worsening. If you cooperate with treatment and there are signs of improvement, we can then try to find a match for surgery."

The doctor had mentioned this to her before. For her illness, treatment would start with chemotherapy. Some patients might not even survive the chemotherapy.

For her, the "signs of improvement" the doctor spoke of were a slim possibility, and she would have to bear the risk of not surviving chemotherapy on top of that.

Therefore, Noelle Sutton was unwilling to undergo chemotherapy.

With this conservative treatment, at least she can live for another six months.

Noelle found her phone and typed a message: Thank you, Doctor. I don’t want to take that risk. 𝕗𝚛𝚎𝚎𝐰𝗲𝗯𝗻𝚘𝚟𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝕞

The doctor sighed. "I’ll prescribe you some more medication, then."

Noelle immediately typed another line: Thank you. And please, could you help me keep my condition a secret? I’m afraid my family will worry if they find out.

Noelle turned the phone for the doctor to see.

Another lie, she thought. My husband and son would never worry about me. So there was no point in telling them and facing their indifference. Surely the doctor would keep my secret, seeing as I don’t have long to live.

"Alright, I understand."

A while later, Noelle was wheeled out of the emergency room, and Mrs. Miller rushed up to her.

"Ma’am, how are you?"

When Noelle saw Mrs. Miller waiting outside, she managed a smile and wrote on her phone: I’m fine, Mrs. Miller. Don’t worry.

Noelle’s IV drip wasn’t finished, so a nurse wheeled her into a patient room. Mrs. Miller sat by the bed, her voice full of heartache. "I’ll go out and buy you some breakfast."

Noelle nodded.

Mrs. Miller left the room.

The trauma unit was on the second floor.

Tristan Lawson was standing on a balcony, on the phone, arranging a blood supply for Sophie Hughes. He happened to see Mrs. Miller walking out of the building. His gaze darkened for a moment before quickly returning to normal.

He continued his phone call.

Just as Noelle’s IV bag was about to run out, she pressed the call button. A nurse came in, changed the bag, and left. Then, her phone rang.

It was a call from Wyatt.

Noelle remembered the promise she had made to Wyatt yesterday.

Wyatt’s father had moved his whole family back to the country to develop the domestic market.

Their new villa had an eastern-style decor, but Mrs. Yates always felt something was missing. She later realized it was paper cuttings for the windows.

They had tried several artists, but their cuttings weren’t very good. Then they thought of Noelle’s grandmother, but upon asking around, they learned she had passed away.

But others recommended Noelle, saying she had inherited her grandmother’s true artistry.

That was the reason Wyatt had given for contacting her.

Her grandmother had wanted her to carry on the craft. Plus, she knew Wyatt’s mother, so she had naturally agreed to the job.

Noelle declined the call, glanced at the time, then at the IV bag. After estimating how long it would take, she sent Wyatt a message.

Noelle: I’ll leave around ten.

Wyatt: Okay. Do you need me to pick you up?

Noelle: No, that’s okay. I’m already in Glenwater.

Wyatt looked at the message, his brow furrowing.

Last night, when he got home, scrolling through his phone, he saw the Lawson Group’s post: a photo of Noelle Sutton and Tristan Lawson’s marriage certificate.

He’d already had a feeling, really.

He hadn’t been able to contact Noelle for seven years now.

Noelle had probably gone back to her hometown because of Tristan Lawson and that other woman. But yesterday, Tristan had told the media that the woman was his aunt.

Now that Noelle was back in Glenwater, they must have reconciled.

Wyatt’s fingertips moved as he typed a reply: Okay. I’ll wait for you.

Noelle put her phone away. She heard the door to her room open and assumed Mrs. Miller was back. She looked up and saw the cold, grim face of Tristan Lawson.