Adding insult to injury, she addressed Clint mockingly, “You’re just as vile, willing to betray your own granddaughter to curry favor with the Clark family. How cruel can you be?”
“Enough!” Clint’s voice erupted, his face flushing crimson.
Unfazed, Charlene jeered, “What’s the use of silencing me now? You’ve already committed such a shameful act. You’re nothing but a bootlicker!”
Clint gripped his chest, gasping for air.
“Leave, just…”
Before he could complete his sentence, his face paled further, and he collapsed onto the bed.
The thump of his fall jolted Stella.
Documents scattered as she sprinted to Clint, screaming, “Grandpa, wake up!”
Outside Seamarsh Hospital, Matthew waited anxiously, time slipping through his fingers, yet there was no sight of Stella.
Finally, he pulled out his phone and dialed her number.
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Moments later, an automated voice informed him, “The number you have dialed is temporarily unavailable.”
Matthew’s brow furrowed, an ominous feeling surging within him.
After a fleeting contemplation, he dialed Clint’s number, only to be greeted by relentless ringing.
His entire being was overwhelmed by a profound and stifling atmosphere, a weight he found increasingly unbearable. Unable to wait any longer, he decided to drive to Bysea himself to fetch Stella.
At Bysea Hospital, Matthew had pinpointed Clint’s ward en route and hurried inside as soon as he parked his car.
Yet, when he arrived at the designated room, it was disturbingly vacant.
He attempted to call Stella again but the line remained unanswered.
Sliding his phone back into his pocket, he was about to ask someone for information when a doctor approached.
Without hesitation, he inquired, “Where is the patient who was in this room, Clint Anderson?”
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“He’s been discharged.”
Matthew’s brow furrowed further at the news.
“When did he leave?”
“Not long ago.” The doctor eyed Matthew cautiously.
“May I inquire about your relationship to the patient?”