Chapter 112: Help Me This Time

“Gia, if you don’t want to ask for her help, then forget it, Gia?”

Gianna picked up her phone, her voice resolute. “No, I go. Whatever conditions she sets, I’ll do my best to meet them.”

Phillip sighed. His daughter was indeed quite naive.

“Have you ever thought about your own situation? If she really donates blood for Caleb, she’ll be his savior. It’s only natural to develop feelings for someone who saves your life. What about you? Silly child, do you really think he’ll still remember you then?”

Gianna froze for a moment before quickly regaining her composure.

“So what? As long as Caleb is happy, my feelings don’t matter.”

It wasn’t the first time. She’d once watched Caleb and Raquel being lovey-dovey right in front of her. Back then, she’d endured the heartache and even smiled while wishing them a long and happy future. How could she suddenly fail to do the same now?

The premise of happiness was having a healthy body. If Caleb died, she wouldn’t even have the chance to see him again, let alone feel jealous.

Phillip felt a pang of sorrow. He’d always cherished his daughter, yet she’d thrown herself at some peniless boy without hesitation. That would’ve been bad enough. Yet, that poor lad didn’t harbor any affection for his daughter, even going so far as to reject her publicly.

Hardening his heart, Phillip said, “Gia, since you’re determined to save him, go find Raquel yourself. I won’t lift a finger to help.”

“Mm, that was my plan. This is my own problem. I won’t drag the family into it.”

After hanging up, Gianna called Norman to the hospital to wait for updates, then set off alone for the Quixall residence to find Raquel.

“Ms. Sherman, that Ms. Levinson isn’t exactly reasonable. Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?”

George looked worried, afraid Gianna might suffer some slight at the Quixall residence.

Gianna shook her head.

“Mr. Langford, don’t worry about me. I’m not that little girl who needed help crossing the street anymore. There are things now that I can handle all by myself.”

Norman watched her retreating figure with mixed emotions.

“Ms. Sherman has really grown up. But she’s bound to suffer this time. I only hope she can endure it.”

At the Quixall residence, after running his victim over, George drove the car back to the garage. He returned to his second-floor study as if nothing had happened and resumed his paperwork.

Deborah, who’d witnessed everything from upstairs, felt both panicked and furious.

“George, how could you do such a thing? Caleb is a living person too! No matter how much of a disappointment he may be, you can’t just run him over with a car!”

George didn’t pause his writing. “If I don’t kill him, how will Jesse get treated?”

Deborah stiffened. After a long silence, she whispered, “But you can’t just… you can’t…”

“Deborah, just help me this once, okay? I’m doing this for our son. Think about it. The doctors said Jesse needs that heart transplant surgery within days to survive. And right now, aside from Caleb’s heart, we haven’t found any other suitable donor for him.”

George set down his pen and grasped Deborah’s hands.

“If we don’t take this risk, Jesse will never come back to us. Can you really bear to watch him leave us forever?”