Silas Grant had read Mia Grant’s medical report over and over on the way here.
On the way to the airport, he had even made a point to contact a doctor at the Hughes Corp’s private hospital to inquire in detail about Mia Grant’s condition.
Finally, he made sure to call Hayes Hughes, who had accompanied her to the appointment.
Before Silas could even ask, Hayes Hughes told him everything he knew.
"Lung cancer is a serious disease. Often, there are no obvious symptoms in the early stages."
"Cancer cells can appear in the lung tissue due to frequent exposure to toxic substances or because of a family history of the disease."
"Otherwise, they would have found something during one of Mia Grant’s many hospital stays."
"Try to be optimistic. It’s not too late. There’s a ninety percent chance of recovery."
Hayes Hughes sighed.
’Thank goodness it’s in the early stages,’ he thought. ’If it were late-stage... barring a miracle, the longest a patient might survive is seven to ten years, but the shortest is often only three or four months.’
"We can’t fall apart. If we panic, she’ll only get more anxious."
"Right now, we have to make sure she stays optimistic and cooperates with the treatment."
"She agreed to be admitted to the hospital next week, but her emotional state..." Hayes trailed off, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
He had dealt with countless patients and their families, and the words of comfort usually came to him effortlessly.
But when it was his own family, he found that the words, once on the tip of his tongue, offered no real comfort at all.
’Saying the words is easy, of course.’
’He wasn’t the one facing death, after all.’
Silas Grant had been silent the entire time. Only then did he hesitate before asking, "Did she... cry?"
On the other end of the line, Hayes Hughes was taken aback. He probably hadn’t expected that question.
"No."
"That’s what makes it even harder," Hayes said. "I wish she would just cry."
"She’s suppressing it too much. She’s like a trapped animal in a coliseum, cornered and near death, circling endlessly with no way out."
"She doesn’t roar or lash out. She just keeps ramming her hard horns against the wall."
"In the end, cracks will appear on her beautiful horns. Broken, she’ll give up the fight, sink to the ground, and just stare sadly at the sky, while the wall a short distance away remains completely unscathed."
—
Silas Grant was silent for the entire trip.
The pressure around him was so heavy that no one dared to make a sound.
The flight attendants on the private jet were very perceptive. One of them simply came forward to serve a cup of calming tea before retreating, leaving him undisturbed for the rest of the flight.
Even Eric was on eggshells the entire time.
He normally wouldn’t have had to come on a personal trip like this.
There were plenty of other assistants in the office. He could have easily stayed behind in Portia to handle meetings and social engagements in Silas Grant’s place.
But before they left, Silas Grant had specifically requested that he come along.
Other than Eric, he had only brought a few bodyguards; no other assistants were with them.
Clearly, he didn’t want too many people to know about this trip.
At first, Eric didn’t know the purpose of this trip to Jynsia.
’It must have something to do with Miss Grant,’ he guessed.
But they had just seen each other not long ago. Besides, the corporation was in the middle of a busy period, and Silas Grant wasn’t the type to drop everything for personal matters.
’Unless...’
’Unless something had happened to Miss Grant.’
The bodyguards had mentioned earlier that Miss Grant had gone to the hospital for a check-up, and the report had been sent to him first thing.
But it was a private matter—especially concerning Miss Grant’s privacy—so he would never dare open it. He had delivered it directly to Silas Grant’s desk.
The more he thought about it, the more he had a bad feeling.
Miss Grant had always been like a delicate flower in a greenhouse, and with her frequent hospitalizations recently, she seemed especially fragile, as if about to fall apart.
’Could it be...’
Soon enough, Eric’s suspicions were confirmed.
When Silas Grant had asked him to come along, Eric hadn’t been able to hide a flicker of confusion on his face, and Silas had caught it instantly.
He remembered it clearly. At that moment, Silas Grant’s desolate expression was tinged with a sorrow that wouldn’t dissipate.
It was almost like an illusion.
But thankfully, he had been by Silas Grant’s side for many years, so he was certain he hadn’t been mistaken.
On the jet bridge, after a long silence, the man had said to him, "She’s sick. You’re coming with me. I don’t trust anyone else."
’Sick.’
Eric couldn’t imagine what kind of serious illness Miss Grant had.
Even when he heard that Miss Grant had been attacked by a drunk, Silas Grant hadn’t shown this kind of vulnerability.
He was like a towering mountain under immense tectonic stress, at risk of collapsing at any moment.
After they landed, Eric followed Silas Grant and saw Miss Grant.
Eric didn’t get any closer, waiting by the car.
From a distance, he could see Miss Grant sitting quietly on a worn-out bench in front of her dormitory.
He remembered Miss Grant as someone who loved to dress up. Perhaps it was because Nike Grant enjoyed dressing her, filling her closet with all sorts of new seasonal styles, so she always looked radiant and glamorous.
As beautiful as a gardenia blooming in the breeze.
But now, she was dressed very simply in a light gray jacket and a pair of jeans.
Her long hair was casually tied up, and she wore no jewelry.
She was still beautiful, no doubt about it.
’But her appearance... how to describe it?’ Eric wondered for a long time before inspiration struck.
’The old Miss Grant was vibrant and colorful. But sitting there now, she’s like a minor character in a black-and-white silent film.’
Eric watched as Nike Grant walked over to Miss Grant. She looked up at him, stunned for a moment, then smiled and stood up.
Nike Grant didn’t say a word; he just silently pulled her into a hug.
Miss Grant hadn’t expected the hug. After a long moment of silence, she reached out and hugged him back.
It was a rare sight for Eric to see the man, so used to carrying himself with an air of authority, bow his proud head.
The man held her tightly, motionless, like a statue.
Because the man’s back was to him, Eric couldn’t see his face, but the overwhelming grief rolling off him was like a rising tide, spilling over from a distance to soak the dry ground at Eric’s feet.
His intuition told him that Nike Grant was crying.
—
Eric maintained the professionalism expected of a special assistant the entire time.
But he had overestimated himself.
When he saw Mia Grant walk over and greet him with a smile, he took a few seconds to react before smiling back. "Good evening, Miss Grant."
"Thank you for all your hard work."
Up close, besides looking more haggard, Miss Grant seemed unchanged.
Her smile was still beautiful, and she was as warm and polite as ever.
In contrast, Nike Grant...
Eric didn’t dare to look at him directly.
But he still thought that, right now, Silas Grant looked more like the one who was seriously ill.
’Miss Grant seems fine...’
But unfortunately, that was just an illusion. Reality was about to deal the beautiful girl a heavy blow.
Not long after getting into the car, Mia Grant started to feel unwell.
Her chest tightened, and she became short of breath. Then, she started coughing up blood.