I looked at him and couldn't help but wonder: if my father were still alive, would he be like Uncle Arthur, acting as a shelter for me and my mother?

In the end, I wiped my tears, forced a smile, and bowed to Dr. Sterling to thank him.

Watching this made Arthur’s heart ache all over again.

Dr. Sterling turned and left, leaving only Arthur and me in the office. I finally spoke up again with a plea: "Uncle Arthur, I... I don't want to be found."

Chapter 9

My voice was as faint as a mosquito's buzz.

Arthur patted my shoulder, giving me his word: "Don't worry. As long as you don't want to be found, no one will know you're here. Whatever you need or want to do, just tell your uncle; I will help you accomplish it all!"

"Thank you, Uncle Arthur." I said, my eyes brimming with tears, my face filled with gratitude.

Arthur nodded, knowing it would take time for me to settle in, so he didn't say much more, simply helping me open the office door.

"Come, let's go see your mother."

In the capital.

Julian gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turned white, his brows furrowed in a deep frown. A fire seemed to be burning in his chest, urging him to find Elena and her mother as quickly as possible.

As time ticked away second by second, his anxiety only grew.

"She’s a stranger in this city; where on earth could Elena go?"

He had driven through almost the entire city, not even sparing the martyrs' cemetery. He had checked every single guesthouse, door by door, asking everywhere; without exception, no one had seen the person he described.

He had asked the doctors at the hospital and followed the address they provided, only to find no one there.

"Zoom—"

Julian swerved the steering wheel, turning directly toward the railway station.

Elena didn’t have any close acquaintances out of town. If she had left the capital, she must have gone somewhere else—but would she really take a critically ill mother back to their hometown?

He slammed the car door and ran hurriedly toward the ticket office, flashing his identification, but no matter what, he couldn't find any ticket purchase information for Elena. She had simply evaporated into thin air.

Julian’s heart plummeted.

"Comrade? Comrade? Did you find the person you were looking for?"

Seeing Julian in a daze, the ticket clerk waved a hand in front of his face, full of concern.

He snapped out of his trance, a bitter smile appearing on his face.

He whispered: "I can't find her anymore. I lost her."

With a lonely silhouette and unsteady steps, he left the railway station, each stride feeling unbearably heavy.

Sitting back in his car, he rested his head against the steering wheel, his expression exhausted and remorseful. A thousand words ultimately melted into one: "Elena, I’m sorry."

Meanwhile, in South City.

Eastern Theater General Hospital, High-Dependency Unit.

Evelyn lay quietly in bed, the monitor beside her emitting a rhythmic "beep, beep."

Entering the room, I went straight to my mother’s bedside, gripping her hand tightly. I carefully smoothed the stray hairs at her temple, forcing a smile while fighting back my worry.

"Mom, we’ve made it to the hospital. You’re going to be just fine."

Dr. Sterling stood by the bed, offering reassurance: "Rest assured, the patient’s condition is basically stable. Our medical team is doing everything in their power to plan the surgery. Don't worry too much."

After saying this, a look of concern appeared in his eyes.

"Our medical staff will closely monitor your mother’s condition. You look like you haven't rested well in a long time; would you like to go get some rest first?"

Upon hearing this, Arthur chimed in: "That’s right, Elena. Go home with your uncle and get a good rest. Your aunt has probably already prepared dinner by now; she was overjoyed to hear you were coming."

Unable to refuse such kindness, I rose from the bedside, casting one last lingering glance at my mother, then nodded at Arthur with a docile tone.

"Then I’ll trouble Uncle Arthur."

"Pfft, no trouble at all, no trouble at all." Arthur waved his hand, helping me open the ward door.

Before leaving, I looked sincerely at Dr. Sterling and said gratefully: "Thank you, Dr. Sterling."

"You're too kind." Dr. Sterling gestured with his hand and said to Arthur: "Brother-in-law, please give my best to my sister."

"Will do."

Arthur waved his hand behind him and led me out.

Once we were in the car.

Arthur slapped his thigh and laughed: "That little brat!"

The driver in front was focused on the road, while I sat beside Arthur, tentatively asking: "Uncle Arthur, what’s wrong?"

Arthur spoke as if telling a joke: "This Dr. Sterling is my brother-in-law. When I first brought you into the hospital, he must have misunderstood the relationship between you and me; he was making a subtle point just now!"

"Don't you worry, though. Your aunt has always wanted a daughter; she will definitely like you the moment she sees you."

Chapter 10

Capital, Police Station.

"Comrade, I’m truly being wronged! Look at my son, he’s still so young. We just came into the city to find my wife—she ran off with her money-wasting brat! Comrade!"

Victor wailed and howled in the police station, his simple-minded son rolling around on the floor along with him.

The others were utterly annoyed, staying as far away from the father and son as possible, while Selina huddled in a corner, contemplating how to explain things to Julian and clear her name.

"Quiet! Keep it down!"

The guard knocked on the iron gate. Just then, Julian walked in against the light.

The moment Selina saw him, her eyes immediately lit up. She lunged at the iron gate, shaking the bars with both hands, sobbing as she screamed at Julian.

"Julian! Julian! I can explain! It was all them—they threatened me. If I hadn’t done it, he really would have beaten me to death, Julian..."

"Pah!" Victor spat a mouthful of saliva directly onto Selina’s face, and she let out a sharp shriek.

"You wretched woman with a heart full of rot, still trying to shift the blame onto me! Once I get out of here, see if I don’t beat you to death!"

As they struggled and screamed, Julian only felt disgust.

Legally speaking, the things Victor and Selina had done didn't meet the criteria for formal charges or sentencing, but the Julian family would absolutely never adopt Selina again.

As for the specifics, Julian had already spoken to his parents, who were far away in another province, by phone. All he had to do now was escort these people back to their village himself.

He also wanted to see if he could find any traces of Elena.

"It no longer matters for what purpose you did these things. I’m only here to tell you that tomorrow morning, I will be sending you all back."

Julian’s voice was cold, devoid of any emotion.

Hearing his words, Selina’s knees buckled, her voice laced with genuine tears: "Back? Back where? I’m not going back! I don’t want to go! Julian, I beg you! Please don’t send me away!"

Looking at Selina, who was on her knees rubbing her hands in supplication, a chilling intent surfaced in Julian’s expression.

"When you were plotting against Elena, did you ever consider that she couldn't go back either?"

Selina froze for a moment, then glared viciously at Julian, screaming: "You think you’re such a saint!"

"Now that Elena is gone, you’re acting all high and mighty! Where was your protection when she was here? You were looking at her with prejudice all along! You liked her, but you didn't dare admit it! Can't find her now, huh? Serves you right! Pah!"

Julian had already walked away. Selina’s spit didn't hit him, but her words felt like sharp knives, stabbing fiercely into his heart and twisting, causing wave after wave of pain.

She was right. He had been prejudiced, and because of that, he had misunderstood Elena.

Ever since the train, he had been convinced that Elena had poor morals, and consequently, he had stubbornly refused to listen to her explanations every single time.

If he had only listened to Elena for one sentence—just one—he wouldn't be in a position where he didn’t even know where she was now.

Julian walked out of the police station, his back a picture of desolation.

South City, The Arthur Residence.

The car drove into the military district compound and pulled up in front of a small villa.

Before I even got out, I saw a well-maintained, gentle, and elegant middle-aged woman waiting at the door with a radiant smile, holding the hand of a boy around fourteen or fifteen years old.

The boy’s hair was combed meticulously, wearing a bow tie around his neck; he seemed a bit reluctant while holding a bouquet of sunflowers.