The doctors rushed in, and the once-quiet corridor erupted into chaos. "As long as I'm alive, you'll never set foot in the Lawson residence again!" Matthew declared. Kayla snickered, "That old bastard is better off dead!"

Arnold, pushing Matthew's bed toward the emergency room, saw the fleeting malice in Kayla's eyes. He was startled. But the next second, Kayla’s expression shifted; tears welled, and she adopted a facade of concern and guilt. It seemed a trick of the light. "Arnie," she said, "it's all my fault. I shouldn't have been so blunt and upset Mr. Lawson Senior…"

Exhausted, Arnold didn't bother to comfort her. "You should leave. My grandfather doesn't want to see you," he said firmly. "Leave!"

Kayla finally left, though she glanced back several times. The emergency room light remained on for four long hours. Arnold stood guard, refusing to move.

Mike arrived, smirked sarcastically at Arnold's bloodshot eyes, and said, "What are you crying about? Isn't this all your fault?" Arnold's expression darkened. "Shut up. I don't want to argue with you right now!" But Mike punched him. "Listen up, kid," Mike said menacingly, "you're my nephew, and I'm your uncle! Do you understand?"

The emphasis on "nephew" struck a nerve. Arnold clenched his fists but couldn't refute it. The tension was palpable. Then, the emergency room door swung open.

The doctor, removing his mask, looked troubled. "The patient has been temporarily stabilized, but…"

"But what?" both men asked.

"There's a possibility he doesn't have much time left," the doctor explained. "At best, three months; at worst, only one. Don't provoke him again, or his health won't hold up."

The doctor replaced his mask and left. Matthew was wheeled back to intensive care. Arnold, struck by Matthew's pale face, whispered, "Grandpa…"

Mike sat silently. Matthew, weak but resolute, extended a hand toward Mike. "Mike… do you still… hate me?"

Mike was taken aback by Matthew's frailty. His hands were wrinkled, like the bark of an old tree. "Dad," Mike said, hesitating before taking Matthew's hand. "You'll be fine. I'll get the best doctors and care for you. You'll recover."

Matthew shook his head, a bitter smile playing on his lips. "I'm not talking about that. You know what I mean. When I forced Sandra's mother, Valentina, away, you hated me for years. In the emergency room, I wondered if I… made a mistake."

Mike replied with exasperation, "Dad, I've explained it countless times. Valentina is not Sandra's mother. I've long since moved past those grievances."

Matthew blinked, surprised. "Then who is Sandra's mother…"

Mike, rubbing his nose, said awkwardly, "Sandra is a child I had two years ago with another woman when I got drunk. I still haven't found her…"

Matthew coughed, then scolded, "You little rascal! Why didn't you tell me sooner?"