Quentin could relate to that. Sometimes, no news was good news. For now, Ernest was surviving on that fragile hope.

“Mr. Flynn.” Quentin hesitated and then added, “Mr. Holland isn’t doing well.”

Ernest stiffened. His eyes sharpened. “Isn’t doing well? What exactly do you mean?”

Quentin spoke plainly.

Addy was elderly and had never fully recovered from the major surgery he had undergone not long ago. The moment he heard about Elissa’s accident, he collapsed and was rushed to the hospital. Unfortunately, the treatment hadn’t done much.

“Mr. Holland has developed respiratory complications,” Quentin explained. “He’s barely conscious—drifting in and out. He sleeps almost the entire day.”

He could no longer eat on his own; they had resorted to nasal feeding and intravenous fluids.

Ernest hadn’t expected things to deteriorate this much. His brows knit together. If Elissa found out, she would be devastated.

He turned to Quentin. “Get the car ready. I’ll change and head to the hospital.”

“Yes, sir.” Quentin gave a slight nod.

With Elissa gone, it was clear that caring for Addy now rested on Ernest’s shoulders.

At the front gate, Eric helped Hadley out of the car. After hearing that Ernest had returned, he had offered to drive her so they could visit together.

Hadley frowned, her face clouded with concern. “I wonder how Ernest is holding up.”

Eric was quiet at first. Then he shook his head. “Not well.”

They fell silent. They both knew—even before he set off—Ernest’s effort to bring Elissa home was destined to fail.

gα?ησν?s?c? brings imagination alive

Eric sighed. “Quentin told me Ernest had a high fever when he got back. He was unconscious for hours.”

Hadley froze, her chest tightening.

“Don’t worry,” Eric said, offering a gentle smile. “He’s seen the doctor. The fever’s gone now. He’s stable. It’ll take time, but he’ll recover.”

“Alright.” Hadley gave a slow nod.

There was nothing more they could do now—except wait. After all, a choice had to be made—between Elissa and Ernest.

Inside, Linda waited in her wheelchair, composed and dignified, carrying herself like the true owner of the house. “Come in,” she said curtly.

Upon seeing her haughtiness, Hadley’s guilt began to ease. Maybe Eric was right—Ernest would recover. And even without Elissa, he still had Linda.

Hadley kept her focus elsewhere and passed the bag over to Eric. “Hold this for me. I’m going to the restroom.”

“Sure thing.” Eric flashed a grin as he accepted the bag, his fingers curling around the handles.

Without hesitation, Hadley made her way down the hall toward the first-floor restroom. Meanwhile, Eric headed straight for the kitchen, ready to pour her a glass of water.

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