Chapter 615

Evelyn's fingertips trembled slightly.

She understood better than anyone that this desperate hope was nothing but self-deception. Yet humans are like this—even knowing it's futile, we still grasp at the last straw.

Alexander stood quietly beside her, not disturbing her silence.

Some obstacles must be overcome alone.

Until the phone rang abruptly. Alexander glanced at the caller ID and answered immediately: "Mr. Anderson."

Evelyn's head snapped up.

Alexander's frown deepened with each passing second before he finally said, "I'll be right there."

That tone could never belong to Anthony Taylor.

"Was that my father?" Evelyn's voice tightened.

"Yes." Alexander gently squeezed her hand. "He wants to talk privately. Don't worry, I'll tell you everything."

Remembering her father's concealed medical records, Evelyn suppressed the urge to press further: "Alright."

The door closed softly, barely making a sound.

Alexander strode toward the emergency stairwell, where he found Andrew sitting on the steps. Seven or eight cigarette butts littered the ground, the acrid smoke stinging his throat.

He wordlessly sat beside Andrew: "You should smoke less."

Andrew stubbed out his cigarette with a bitter smile: "What does it matter for an old man like me?"

The words struck Alexander like a blunt knife. He suddenly realized Andrew might have seen through everything long ago.

Silence stretched between them.

Andrew's back seemed more hunched than the last time they met. Rubbing his face, he rasped: "You're smart enough to have guessed, right?"

Alexander didn't deny it.

"Evelyn...she doesn't know?" Andrew's fingers trembled unconsciously.

"She only noticed you've been treating me differently lately. She hasn't connected the dots."

Andrew exhaled shakily: "Don't ever tell her. If she wants to check hospital records, stop her."

"I promise."

The cramped space reeked of tobacco's bitterness. Andrew suddenly coughed violently, his face flushing crimson.

As Alexander moved to stand, a bony hand gripped his arm.

"Don't call the doctors." Andrew wheezed, "I've worked so hard to keep this hidden..."

Alexander clenched his fists: "Understood."

When the coughing subsided, tears glistened in Andrew's clouded eyes: "That child has always bottled things up. Even when wronged, she stays silent—afraid of burdening others."

His voice cracked mid-sentence.

"I've contacted specialists abroad—"

"Enough." Andrew waved weakly. "Just answer me this—do you truly care for her?"

Alexander met his gaze squarely: "I don't want to see her in pain."

"Remember those words." Andrew's hand landed heavily on his shoulder.

Amid the swirling smoke, Andrew's whisper was barely audible: "Grace is too naive, Emily too flighty. In the future...everything will fall on Evelyn."

Tears rolled down his weathered cheeks.

Alexander's throat constricted.

In that moment, the two men reached a silent understanding—some burdens are meant to be carried to the grave.