Chapter 479: She Killed Her Own Child!

Elvis closed his eyes. He knew she had lied. She’d claimed to be unwell, concealing her pregnancy. Why? Why the deception? Why had they lost their first child?

He stood in the dimly lit hallway, his handsome features obscured, but his deep, narrow eyes held a sinister glint. Peterson then brought Crystal, who rushed over, panicked, and grabbed his sleeve. "Elvis, listen! I didn't push Olive; she fell. On the stairs. She was terrifying. She actually killed her own child…"

Before she finished, Elvis flung her hand away, sending her crashing against the wall. She crawled toward his leg, grasping at his trousers. It was Olive who had fallen, she insisted; Olive had killed their child. Crystal had to tell Elvis the truth; if he knew Olive had done it, he wouldn't want Clive anymore.

Just then, the operating room door opened, and the doctor emerged. Elvis hurried forward. "Doctor, how is she?"

Crystal lay on the ground, embarrassed, her hands still outstretched. The doctor removed his mask and looked at Elvis regretfully. "Mr. Augustine, I'm sorry. Miss Hart had a miscarriage. The child is gone."

A cold silence enveloped Elvis. He lowered his eyelids. "How is she?"

"Mr. Augustine, the surgery was successful, but Miss Hart lost a lot of blood. She needs complete bed rest and careful attention. She's young; she'll have more children."

A nurse wheeled Olive out. Elvis caressed her cold face, then kissed her forehead. "It's alright, Olive."

In the VIP ward, Olive slowly opened her eyes to see Elvis's gentle face. He'd been there the whole time, perhaps asleep from exhaustion. They lay close; she heard his shallow breaths. This was the first time she'd seen him so vulnerable. She moved slightly, realizing her hand was clasped tightly in his. She gently withdrew it.

Elvis awoke, his eyes still heavy-lidded. He sprang up, his voice low and tense. "Olive, you're awake. Are you in pain? I'll call the doctor."

Olive frowned. "I'm thirsty. Water."

He fetched water, returning to find her by the window, wearing a blue and white gown, her slender frame frail. She was quiet. He embraced her from behind, kissing her face. "Why are you out of bed? You need rest."

Olive touched her flat stomach. "The baby's gone, isn't it?"

He lowered his eyes. "Take care of yourself first. We'll have more children." He returned her to bed, covered her with a blanket, and gave her water.

Crystal's voice cut through the quiet. "Where's Elvis? I need to speak with him!"

Peterson warned, "Miss Robert, he's with Miss Hart. You can't enter. Leave immediately."

Olive looked toward the door. "Is that Crystal?"

Elvis nodded. "Yes, and she says she didn't push you, that you fell yourself, that you killed our child."

Olive met his gaze. "Who do you believe?"

He held her hand. "I believe you, Olive. I know you couldn't kill our child."

Olive said, "Let her in."

Crystal rushed in, pale and determined. "Elvis, you must believe me! I didn't push her! She rolled down the stairs herself! She angered me, said she wanted to frame me, then she fell! She said the game was over; she ended it herself!"