Devoted Love:The Billionaire's Precious Wife-Chapter 532

Early the next morning, Kenneth and Louisa were up and about, sitting in the living room, their eyes occasionally darting upstairs.

Seeing their attention constantly divided, Edith couldn’t help but ask, "Are you waiting for Ms. Rose to wake up?"

Louisa nodded. "We thought we’d have breakfast together."

"Ms. Rose left before dawn with a backpack on her shoulders. It looked like she was planning a long journey."

"Rose has already left?" Louisa expressed surprise. It was barely past seven in the morning. Where could the young girl be heading off to with her bag packed?

"Do you think she might have gone to school? Did she pack some clothes to change into?" Kenneth offered. "Why don’t you give her a call?"

If nothing was going on at school, maybe she could take some time off and join them abroad.

Louisa dialed Rosemary’s number, only to be met with the automated voice message: The number you have dialed is currently switched off.

"We should get going," Louisa turned to Kenneth. "My brother mentioned last night that Mom’s condition isn’t promising. I’m anxious about any unforeseen circumstances, so I’d like to see her as soon as possible."

"I was hoping Rose could take a look. Maybe there’s a chance for improvement. Let’s wait a bit longer. Rose might be in class and unable to answer her phone. Why don’t you send her a message?" Kenneth held onto a glimmer of hope in his daughter’s medical skills.

Louisa sent another text, waiting in silence for two hours. Rosemary’s phone remained off. Eventually, she stood up and said, "Let’s head abroad. Once Rose replies—if she can—I’ll ask her to join us there."

"Sounds good." Kenneth placed a comforting hand on his wife’s shoulder. "Don’t worry too much. I’ll get in touch with a few more doctors and ask them to meet us abroad to help Mom."

Louisa looked at him appreciatively. Ever since her mother fell ill, her husband had been going out of his way to help—both financially and otherwise. There was simply nothing to fault him on.

Over the years, she had been pampered by her husband to the extent of living a carefree life.

Meanwhile, Rosemary sat in the first-class cabin of a plane, going through the medical records Mark had sent her. With over thirty pages of complicated medical history, her patient’s condition was indeed a tough nut to crack.

If they were aiming for full recovery, it was going to require multiple medications and a lengthy process.

As she perused the documents, she remained oblivious to the messages and calls from Louisa.

In Lidaria, a gentleman sat somberly in his own garden. Despite being in his thirties, his chiseled, handsome face and distinctive aura still radiated a strong personal appeal.

"Sir, don’t be too upset," a pixie-haired servant attempted to comfort him. "Mrs. Griffith will surely overcome this hurdle. She’s a survivor."

"That girl you encountered last time, are you sure she’s a Solterra?" Sampson’s attractive gaze fell on the servant.

She nodded in affirmation. Last time, when she and the driver were taking Old Mrs. Griffith for her check-up, their car got rear-ended by a bus. Old Mrs. Griffith suffered a heart attack, and it was a passing Solterra girl who came to their aid.

"She’s stunningly beautiful—the kind that would easily stand out in a crowd. She has her hair tied up in a bun and carries a rather aloof demeanor. She doesn’t talk much, and I’ve never seen her smile. But there’s a genuine kindness in her voice."

The servant could still recall Rosemary’s distinct features. Her exquisite face and elegant demeanor were unforgettable. If only she were more skilled with her hands, she would have loved to draw a portrait of her.

"She’s truly remarkable. She administered a few acupuncture treatments and Old Mrs. Griffith was able to breathe again. She even knew that Old Mrs. Griffith was fragile and advised us to be extra careful when caring for her."

"Moreover, she mentioned that the medicines she took aren’t helping Old Mrs. Griffith’s current condition. Besides, she pointed out some of the medications should be replaced with alternatives, as they might add to Old Mrs. Griffith’s physical burden—causing her to feel fatigued and drowsy, with a bitter taste in her mouth and chest discomfort. If she wasn’t a medical expert, how could she carry an acupuncture kit with her and instantly name the medications Old Mrs. Griffith was taking, along with their side effects?"

After all, among the medications the old lady was on, the three she mentioned were present. These three were special-effect drugs, yet to hit the market, but she knew just by checking the pulse. Her medical skills must be outstanding!

"I asked her then about possible alternatives, but she just mentioned that Old Mrs. Griffith’s condition can’t be cured overnight. There was a chauffeur who treated her with respect, addressing her as ’Miss’ and even reminding her to get into the car. I guessed she must be the daughter of a wealthy family, probably dealing with some urgent matters. I thought, in this country, there’s nobody you can’t find."

As the short-haired girl reached this point, her voice dwindled.

"But the license plate number you gave me turned out to be fake, untraceable," Sampson said in a soft voice. "She must be someone powerful—all the surveillance footage from when she appeared has been wiped clean."

"What?" The short-haired girl seemed surprised. "Now what?"

She had thought that finding the girl would give Old Mrs. Griffith’s condition a chance to turn around. Now, even the brilliant Dr. Mark was at a loss regarding Old Mrs. Griffith’s condition.

At that moment, Dr. Mark approached them. Sampson asked in a soft voice, "Is she asleep?"

"Yes. I gave her an injection. She finally fell asleep."

Old Mrs. Griffith’s condition had deteriorated to the point where she couldn’t sleep peacefully. Every time she lay down, she felt breathless and had to sit up, panting heavily.

"Did the impressive doctor you mentioned respond yet?" Sampson asked again.

Seeing the dejected look on Sampson’s face, Mark replied truthfully, "She’s always busy. But she promised to make time to look at the medical history. All we can do now is wait patiently."

"But we’re running out of time," Sampson said, lifting his eyes. "Please ask her again for me."

"Well..." Mark hesitated. "If we rush her, it might backfire. Tonight, I’ll ask her again. If she still hasn’t had the time to review the medical history, we can’t really push her. We’ll just have to wait."

"Is she really that irritable?" Sampson asked.

"It’s not that she’s irritable. She’s just very busy. She doesn’t like being disturbed. There’s a lot she has to handle personally. I’ve known her for many years, and this is the first time I’ve asked her for help. I believe she will help."

"It would be great if she could come here."

After all, only by seeing the patient in person can a better treatment plan be provided.

"She mentioned she’s been busy lately and doesn’t have time to come over, but she should be able to provide some verbal guidance."

If they could get guidance from that doctor, it would definitely be of great help to Old Mrs. Griffith’s condition.