Erin kept her head down, and the bodyguard didn’t dare to lean in closer. The sight of her returning was
enough to put him at ease.
Fanny didn’t see any commotion breaking out behind her, and knew that her ploy had worked.
She truly didn’t expect the person Oliver sent to wash the toilets to help her at such a critical moment.
Perhaps the heavens couldn’t bear it any longer. The heavens wanted to give her a chance to seek
revenge from the Channings.
Fanny walked to the door of the ward, where doctors streamed out incessantly.
She could overheartheir conversation about how the patient was in a dire condition, and that Mr.
Channing wanted to hold a discussion with them. He even invited an expert.
“Mr. Channing would be able to live for another week or so. There’s still a chance, go for it!”
One week…
He could live another week.
So many people held him in such high regard, running around and doing all things for his sake-yet, her
parents didn’t even have the chance of getting resuscitated.
Fanny tightened her grip over the broom, pretending to be sweeping the floor, when she was in fact
fighting the urge to barge into the ward.
Thankfully, the doctors were slowly filing out of the ward.
When the chatters died down, Fanny peeked into the room on tip-toes. Oliver wasn’t in the ward.
She remembered the doctors talking about having a discussion, and guessed that Oliver might have
headed over early to prepare.
He used to work as a doctor, after all. Although he hadn’t been working as one over the past three years,
he still had his connections and skills.
For example, today, when he was checking on her, he demonstrated even more techniques than when
he operated on her previously.
It gave her warmth that seeped into her bones.
She even had the illusion that he treated her like a treasure, hence why he had been so gentle and not at
all overbearing.
Thankfully, she was no fool.
She knew that this man had excellent medical ski Ils—and that was it. If he really treasured her, he
wouldn’t have done so many outrageous things to her.
Fanny composed herself, and gripped her broom as she entered the ward.
Kenneth Channing wasn’t staying in a sterile ward. He had just completed his operation, and all of his
vitals were in stable condition. There were many tubes sticking out of his body, and he looked like a toy
assembled together by many small parts.
When Fanny entered the ward, she looked up slowly.
She did so until her whole face was exposed in front of Kenneth. By then, she had arrived right next to
his bed.
Everyone was trying to keep this old man alive. She was the only exception, like a reaper swimming
against a tide.
She stood right next to him.
Unlike what Oliver thought, Kenneth Channing wasn’t shocked when he saw Fanny. Instead, he was
filled with fear and uneasiness.
“You…”
Mist spewed from his oxygen mask when he spoke, making him look even more weak and vulnerable.
Fanny smiled, the struggle and pain Oliver saw in her eyes before leaving the villa all but gone. Right
now, overwhelming hatred was all that was left.
“I’ve come.”
Whether she was a ghost or a living person, she had to make the Channings pay for what they owed her!
Fanny cut to the chase.
“What are my parents’ names? Where are their graves? How did you go through the procedures to adopt
me? I want to know everything.”
Her words made it clear that she had found out the truth of the past.
That was so.
If she didn’t know the truth, Oliver would never bear to fake her death and hold a funeral for her. Oliver
was probably doing all he could so that Fanny would belong to him alone.
His poor son…
A kind man was a dying man.
He looked at Fanny once more, and the uneasiness in his heart fading. “What’s bound to come will
come.”
Alas, his debt would inevitably fell upon his son’s shoulders.
“Don’t leave him,” Kenneth said. “Promise me that, and I’ll tell you everything that happened in the past.
You can even record it and take my statement to the police to hold me accountable for what I did. But…”
Saying so much in one breath exhausted what little energy he had left.
It took him five minutes to muster another word.
“Don’t leave him.”
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