CHAPTER 82: CHAPTER 82: I’M SICK—AND IT’S PRETTY SERIOUS

The phone rang; it was Quentin Lockwood returning the call.

Aiden Fordham concisely described everything that had happened that night, especially the strange disappearance and reappearance.

On the other end, Quentin Lockwood’s tone was grave: "The only thing that could create such a visual deception is the Chris Family’s Deceitful Concealment Technique."

The Chris Family.

Hearing that name, Aiden Fordham felt his heart sink.

He knew how obsessed that lunatic from the Chris Family was with God N—he’d tangled for years, and in the end, even issued a kill order. That was when he finally intervened...

Now, they’re targeting Stella Grant... could it be for the equation about God N in her hands?

The air around him grew colder.

No way.

He would never let anyone hurt her again.

"Bring Seraphina back," he said into the phone, his voice brooking no argument.

With cold eyes, he silently stared at the white glow from a room on the second floor...

The next day.

At exactly 9 a.m., Stella Grant appeared punctually at the entrance of the civil affairs bureau.

The sun was a little harsh; she raised her hand to shield her eyes as time ticked by, minute after minute.

9:10! 9:20! 9:30!

Still no sign of him.

Stella Grant’s patience was completely exhausted. She pulled out her phone and dialed that all-too-familiar number directly.

The call rang a few times, then connected. The anger she’d been bottling up exploded instantly—she let loose without holding back.

"Aiden Fordham, are you a professional pigeon? We agreed to meet at nine. What time is it now? Where are you!"

"Is it fun to mess with me?"

There was silence on the other end for a few seconds. Then a clearly weak voice came, accompanied by a deliberately suppressed cough.

"Stella Grant... I’m sick. Cough, cough... cough... Feels... pretty serious..."

The words she was about to spit out caught in Stella Grant’s throat, stuck and unable to come out.

She froze for a moment.

Sick?

He was full of life when he was saving her just yesterday.

But there was a rainstorm last night.

She instinctively lowered her voice, tinged with suspicion. "Where do you feel unwell?"

Aiden Fordham’s voice grew even weaker, barely a breath left.

"My whole body feels weak... and I’m dizzy... don’t know if I caught a cold..."

Of course, he knew.

Last night he’d been drenched by the rain, then took a cold shower after coming back. How could he not catch a cold?

Listening to his about-to-expire tone, Stella Grant inexplicably felt annoyed.

She took a breath, her voice indifferent, devoid of emotion.

"Wait there."

After saying this, she hung up the phone directly.

Aiden Fordham held his phone, the corners of his mouth curling into a sly, satisfied smile.

Half an hour later, he slowly climbed out of bed.

Leaning behind the door, he composed himself, wondering how he could appear even more pitiful and miserable in a moment.

The doorbell suddenly rang.

She’s here!

Aiden Fordham took a deep breath, adjusted his face to look weak and helpless, and reached to open the door.

The person standing at the door was in a crisp suit, with a stern expression.

It was Keegan Lindsey!

The expression on Aiden Fordham’s face froze instantly; all his prepared acting found no outlet.

"Why is it you?"

Keegan Lindsey bowed slightly, his voice respectful. "President Fordham, madam called and said you weren’t feeling well, told me to bring you to the hospital."

Aiden Fordham’s expression turned thoroughly cold, the warmth in his eyes dropping to freezing point.

He leaned against the door frame, his voice hoarse, carrying an irrefutable command.

"No need."

This woman—does she have a heart at all? He had just saved her last night!

The gloom on his face seemed ready to drip water!

"Is the new dossier ready?" he suddenly asked.

Dossier?

"It’s ready, it’s been in my bag all along." Keegan Linsey quickly replied.

"I’ll change and head to The Lockwood Group!" Aiden Fordham strode swiftly upstairs—he barely looked sick at all.

So he was faking being ill to avoid going to the civil affairs bureau. This boss... a bit crafty!

Wait, did he just say... going to The Lockwood Group? Wandering?

Keegan Lindsey felt a sudden panic!

...

The air in the car was stifling.

Aiden Fordham was leaning against the seat with his eyes closed, unconsciously tapping his knee with his fingers, a faint frown between his brows.

The ringtone of his phone suddenly shattered the silence.

He glanced at the screen—it was Damian Hawthorne.

"Aiden, guess who I saw in Borrin? It was Stella Grant. She and Vivi Sterling went up the mountain—looked like they were heading to Evergreen Gardens.

I’ve got someone following them. Want to come over?"

Aiden Fordham was stunned. What are they doing in Borrin?

It’s about 80 kilometers from here, just about an hour’s drive.

Damian Hawthorne’s tone grew heavier, an edge of ruthlessness in his voice.

"Just take her away, you get me? On your turf—even if her heart is made of stone, wear her down until she softens!"

Damian Hawthorne sneered coldly, his eyes icy and intimidating. "Make sure that Quentin guy won’t find her even if he digs three feet into the ground!"

"All right, that’s settled. I’ll wait for you. I’ll keep someone following them."

After hanging up, Aiden Fordham told the driver to detour to Borrin.

Borrin, Evergreen Gardens.

Towering trees blotted out the sky, mottled light and shadow on the ground.

Rows of tombstones lined the mountain’s slope, solemn and silent.

Today was Grandma Prescott’s memorial day.

Stella Grant and Vivi Sterling, both in knee-length black dresses, stood quietly before the grave.

Fresh white daisies and lilies had been placed before the tomb, along with several plates of delicate pastries—grandma’s favorites in life.

Stella Grant bent down, her fingers gently brushing the photo inlaid on the stone. The elderly woman in the picture was smiling kindly.

"Grandma, Vivi and I came to see you."

Her voice was soft, with a barely noticeable tremor.

"Three years—it’s gone by so fast."

"I... I’m about to leave Meritopia soon, going to F-Country. I might not come back often anymore."

She sniffed hard, fighting her tears back down.

"Don’t worry about Grandpa Fordham. He’s still in great health, tough as ever. But it’s hard for him to climb up here, so he asked me to bring you your favorite osmanthus cake, pear crisps, and sugar pancakes—all your favorites. You must wait patiently for him on the other side."

Stella Grant rambled on, but her eyes grew red anyway.

Meeting Grandma Prescott had been a twist of fate, yet she’d been treated like a real granddaughter. Her only regret was coming back too late and not being able to heal Grandma Prescott herself.

Vivi Sterling stepped closer and spoke earnestly to the gravestone: "Grandma Prescott, don’t worry. I’ll take good care of Stella and never let anyone bully her."

Stella Grant wiped the corners of her eyes and added, her tone solemn.

Suddenly, a woman emerged from the trees, slowly approaching.

She clutched a bouquet of white lilies. When she saw two people standing by the grave, she quickly turned and fled.

"Claire—it’s Claire!" Stella Grant lifted her legs and ran after her.

"Claire, don’t run, don’t run!" Stella Grant called after her, but the woman dashed down the slope like a mouse fleeing a cat, desperately running away.

Vivi Sterling popped up from somewhere, caught her in a hug. "Hey, where are you running to, kiddo!"

"Ah, ah!" The woman struggled but couldn’t say a word, only uttering inarticulate sounds.

Stella Grant hurried over and stopped Vivi, "Vivi, don’t... don’t hurt her."

"Don’t be scared. We won’t hurt you—don’t be afraid." Stella Grant comforted her gently as she rummaged through her wallet, taking out a faded photo.

The photo showed four people together: Grandma Prescott, her adopted son Uncle Prescott, Claire, and Stella herself.

Claire was Uncle Prescott’s daughter. Four years ago, an accident took Uncle Prescott’s life, and 14-year-old Claire disappeared. Over the years, Stella Grant had been searching for her—fulfilling grandma’s last wish.

"See? I’m your sister, Stella—Claire, I’m your sister! Sister!"

Claire Norton quieted down. She stared at Stella Grant, so excited she flailed her hands.

She wanted to call out, but couldn’t make a sound. Tears streamed down like pearls.

Stella Grant knew she recognized her, and rushed forward to embrace her tightly.

The two of them cried in each other’s arms!

Soon after, the group headed down the mountain. Dark clouds rolled in and heavy raindrops pelted down, instantly forming a curtain of rain.

Unbeknownst to them, danger was approaching...