31 Chapter 31 – A Night of Miracles and Misplaced Gratitude
“I got your message,” I replied cautiously. “Is everything alright?”
He straightened immediately, eager to please. “Anything, Mrs. Dubois.”
When I reached the VIP wing, I slowed my pace, trying to collect myself. The last thing I needed was to look frantic in front of the Dubois family. I’d given Beatrice one of my most carefully formulated treatments–it shouldn’t have caused any adverse effects. But still, doubt nagged at me.
Was she having a bad reaction to my medicine? Had something gone wrong? The thought made my stomach twist into knots.
“All thanks to Caleb’s connections,” Fiona replied. “Without him, we’d never have gotten these powerful sleeping pills.”
“I know what the doctor said,” Beatrice interrupted with unusual firmness. “But I’d like to test a theory.”
Beatrice sat up in bed, her cheeks flushed with color, looking more alive than she had in years. Beside her stood Fiona, one hand possessively on her mother’s shoulder. Alistair Dubois was there too, along with Genevieve and–of course–Caleb Sterling, who stood with the smug air of a savior.
Fiona’s smile faltered. “But Mother, the doctor said-‘
“Mr. Sterling arranged this ward?” Alistair asked slowly.
“Yes?” she replied, confusion evident on her face.
As I approached her room, I heard laughter–not exactly what I expected if there was a medical emergency. I paused outside, catching snippets of conversation.
I turned slowly to face her. “Mrs. Dubois asked to see me.”
“Mother, please,” Fiona said, though her tone held more amusement than censure. “Not
in front of Caleb.”
And in Philip’s carefully neutral expression, I caught the faintest hint of something else
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-a message from Arthur. He knew too.
I frowned. Sleeping pills? That’s not what I’d given her.
I bit the inside of my cheek. So that was their game. They were taking credit for my medicine’s effects.
“Perhaps,” Beatrice conceded, though she didn’t look convinced. “I’d like to try without the pills tonight, just to see.”
The room fell uncomfortably silent. Beatrice’s eyes widened in dismay, while Alistair looked away, unwilling to intervene as usual.
As she accepted them with trembling hands, her eyes found mine across the room. In that moment, a perfect understanding passed between us. She knew. Somehow, she knew I was behind this.
Taking a deep breath, I knocked and entered the room. The scene inside stopped me cold.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” Fiona gushed, squeezing her mother’s shoulder. “And Caleb also arranged for this VIP ward. The regular rooms were all full, but he made one call and suddenly space opened up.”
He produced a bouquet of fresh flowers and a small envelope, which he handed directly to Beatrice.
Fiona’s smile tightened. “Everything’s perfect. Mother slept through the night for the first time in years.”
All eyes turned to Caleb, whose face had transformed from pale to an uncomfortable shade of red.
“I’ve been trying to reach him for years regarding my condition,” Beatrice explained. “I wonder if you might arrange a consultation?”
“Leaving so soon, Elara?” Genevieve’s cold voice stopped me. “I’m surprised you even showed up, considering you have nothing to offer here.”
I hid my smile. Clever woman.
“How fortunate,” I said, struggling to keep my tone neutral.
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“It’s pathetic, really,” Genevieve continued, her eyes cold. “First you try to worm your way into the Sterling family by trapping Arthur in marriage, and now you’re hanging around the hospital like some lost puppy, desperate for scraps of attention.”
I watched as Caleb squirmed, caught in his own web of exaggerations. He’d clearly implied to the Dubois family that he had more influence at Sterling Energy than he actually did.
“I… there must be some misunderstanding,” he stammered. “I spoke to someone in
administration…”
“That’s because you finally got proper rest, dear,” Genevieve interjected smoothly. “Your body needed time to heal.”
“No misunderstanding, sir,” Philip continued smoothly. “In fact, Mr. Sterling asked me to deliver these as well.”
Beatrice shifted in her bed, a small frown creasing her brow. “Actually, I’m not entirely convinced it was the sleeping pills. My throat feels different–better in a way I haven’t experienced before.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” he finally said, voice tight.
My blood ran cold. Where was she going with this?
The silence that followed was deafening. Fiona’s mouth opened and closed without sound. Caleb had gone pale.
Beatrice caught my eye, and something passed between us–a silent acknowledgment. She knew exactly what had helped her, but she couldn’t say it.
The question was: what would he do with that knowledge?
“…like a miracle, really,” came Beatrice’s voice, stronger than I’d heard it in
years.
I stood perfectly still, refusing to let her see how her words cut. I’d endured worse from her over the years.
Philip nodded, his expression perfectly professional. “Yes, sir. Mr. Sterling personally called the hospital director yesterday morning to secure these accommodations for
Mrs. Dubois.”
I rushed through the hospital corridor, my heart pounding in my chest. The text from
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Beatrice’s nurse had been brief but alarming: “Mrs. Dubois is asking for you.”
I kept my expression blank, even as anger burned through me. I was the one who had developed the medicine that was actually helping Beatrice. I was the one who had secured this ward. But as always, I would get no credit, no acknowledgment.
Caleb’s confident expression slipped for just a moment. “Well, Dr. Wilson is quite… reclusive. Even at Sterling Energy, only the top executives have direct contact.”
“How… convenient,” I managed.
“But surely Arthur could arrange something,” Fiona pressed, seeing an opportunity. “You’re his nephew, after all.”
I nearly laughed at that blatant lie. I’d personally called in favors to secure this ward for Beatrice.
“Elara,” Beatrice said, her eyes lighting up. “I’m so glad you came.”
“I understand you have some connection to Dr. Wilson through Sterling Energy,” she said.
Genevieve sniffed. “He should know what kind of woman married his uncle. A nobody from nowhere who contributes nothing.”
“Meanwhile,” she gestured toward Caleb, “here’s a real Sterling who’s actually helping this family. Providing medicine, securing special accommodations–being useful instead of just taking up space.”
Caleb stepped forward, his expression a mask of humble concern. “I’m just glad I could help, sir. My family has access to certain medications that aren’t widely available yet.”
“Out of pity, no doubt,” she said with a dismissive wave. “Unlike some people who actually contribute something useful.”
A tall man in an impeccable suit entered, his presence immediately commanding attention. I recognized him instantly: Philip Mercer, Arthur’s personal assistant.
I moved toward the door, hoping to make a quiet exit. I’d seen enough, and confirmed Beatrice wasn’t in any danger. In fact, my medicine seemed to be working perfectly.
“Genevieve,” Beatrice began, but the older woman pressed on.
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Philip bowed slightly. “I’m here to convey Mr. Sterling’s regards. He wanted to ensure you were comfortable in this ward. Is everything to your satisfaction?”
Just as I opened my mouth to respond–though what I planned to say, I wasn’t sure- the door opened behind me.
“Seven hours of uninterrupted sleep,” Alistair added, looking at Caleb with undisguised gratitude. “And her cough seems much improved this morning.”
“Caleb,” Beatrice continued, turning to him, “I have a favor to ask you.”
“Mrs. Dubois?” he inquired politely, looking directly at Beatrice.
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