Billionaire's Regret: Losing Me And Our Son - Chapter 228: Chapter 228

"Ms. Hinton, I'm heading to the hospital now. Please ride in the ambulance with Clarissa," George said, his voice tight with urgency. He kept reminding me—Clarissa's condition is very delicate.
If Clarissa had another episode in the ambulance, I'd need to brief the paramedics about her medication on George's behalf.
I took a deep breath as I watched Clarissa being lifted into the ambulance. In a calm voice, I said, "I understand. I'll accompany her to the hospital."
"Ms. Hinton, if anything happens to Clarissa, contact me at once!" George insisted urgently.
I agreed, though I couldn't help noticing that George's reaction seemed a bit excessive.
Though doctors are expected to care for their patients as if they were family, as Clarissa's personal physician, George naturally took an interest in her condition.
'But was he really that panicked?' I wondered.
Without another thought, I climbed into the ambulance.
Fortunately, Clarissa's condition remained stable. She was on oxygen the whole way and made it safely to the hospital.
Within just thirty minutes, the operating room light went out.
As soon as the operating room doors swung open, George rushed over, gasping, "Doctor, how is she?"
George cut in front of me, stopping the white-coated doctor. His eyes betrayed unmistakable panic.
In that instant, it hit me—George must really like Clarissa.
"The patient is stable now, so there's no need to worry." The doctor paused, then admonished sternly, "With a heart condition, alcohol consumption is strictly prohibited. This is basic medical common sense."
My heart sank as the truth hit me—Clarissa's heart condition really was triggered by alcohol.
"Why would Clarissa drink alcohol?" Quinn's familiar voice rang out from behind me.
I whipped around and saw Quinn standing there, his face grim and beads of sweat on his forehead—he must have sprinted all the way here.
George furrowed his brow, then his gaze snapped at me. In a low, stern voice, he said, "Ms. Hinton, if I recall correctly, Clarissa was at the 'Starry River' wrap party today. She was with you right before the incident, wasn't she?"
The moment George finished speaking, Quinn's piercing dark eyes snapped to me.
Suddenly, I felt my chest tighten painfully.
The way both men looked at me—scrutinizing, suspicious—it was like they were forcing me to admit I was the one who hurt Clarissa, that I was the villain in all of this.
In a low voice, I admitted, "We shared a toast to celebrate the wrap party."
'I had no way to defend myself,' I thought. 'I couldn't just pin the blame on Raelynn—especially since Clarissa and I did drink together.'
"You knew about her heart condition, and you also knew the reason Julia was imprisoned."
Quinn's face darkened abruptly. His voice dropped low and cold, sounding both accusatory and matter-of-fact.
I shuddered, realizing Quinn must have already investigated everything that happened at the hotel before he came.
Dozens of witnesses had overheard my argument with Clarissa.
I lashed out at Clarissa by bringing up Julia's imprisonment—out of spite. That must have sent Quinn into a rage.
The nurse wheeled the still-unconscious Clarissa out of the operating room. George rushed over to her side, accompanying her as she was transferred to the ward.
Quinn was about to follow, but after a few steps, he abruptly halted. He turned back, his gaze icy as he said in a voice utterly devoid of warmth, "Go home and rest."
"Alright." I knew I was in the wrong and had nothing more to say, feeling utterly drained.
I left the hospital and caught a cab home.
With the New Year approaching, the streets glowed with holiday lights, radiating warmth and festive joy everywhere.
The cab was speeding through the city when Lindsey's call snapped me out of my daze at the passing streetlights.
"Hello..." I answered weakly.
Lindsey squealed excitedly on the phone, "Natalia, Miss Vance agreed to be my opening model! It's all thanks to you. When are you free? I still owe you that custom design I promised…"
"You're welcome, but let's talk about it another time," I said curtly, cutting Lindsey off with polite detachment.
Lindsey paused for a beat, perhaps sensing my low spirits. With quick understanding, she said, "Alright, I'll reach out to you in a few days. Good night, Natalia!"
The phone rang again within three seconds of hanging up.
I was feeling inexplicably agitated and was just about to hang up when my eyes suddenly caught sight of "Robert" on the screen.
A shiver ran down my spine as I jolted upright, pressing the phone to my ear. "Mr. Taylor, do you have any new leads?"
Getting straight to the point, Robert said, "Ms. Hinton, there have indeed been new developments in your grandmother Mary's case. We had only focused on those who met her in person that day. But according to your account, her heart attack was triggered by learning about your father's affair. Is it possible she learned this not face-to-face, but through some other means, such as a phone call or a letter?"
A chill ran down my spine as the realization hit me. "You mean someone called Mary?" I asked, my voice tight.
"Phone calls, letters, or other means of communication we haven't identified yet," Robert said gravely. "So far, I've only checked your grandmother Mary's call records from that day."
"Is there any important information?" I pressed.
Robert said gravely, "On the day of the incident, a woman named June called your grandmother, Mary."
My whole body went numb with shock. "What did you say? June?"
"The call lasted two minutes. We have no way of knowing what was said, and there isn't enough evidence to consider her a suspect," Robert told me. "I'm calling to confirm one thing with you—did June already know about your father's affair before the incident?"
Scenes flashed through my mind—June and I having lunch at the restaurant that day.
It was June who first stumbled upon Ben and Bernie's affair.
That's right. June knew about Ben's affair before Mary died...
"I couldn't believe it. Could it really have been June who told Grandma? But why would she do that?"
"Ms. Hinton, there's something I must make clear to you," Robert said gravely. "Even if June's phone call did lead to your grandmother's passing, legally speaking, we can't charge her with any crime."
I understood what Robert meant—June had no motive to commit the crime.
Based on what I know about June, if she really did call Grandma, it was probably just because she's blunt and tends to speak before she thinks.
Back home, I sat in the garden, lost in deep thought.
Mary's voice and smiling face kept haunting me. No matter what, I was determined to uncover the truth about her death.
I considered reaching out to June directly, but now that she was York's girlfriend, it wouldn't be that simple.
After much deliberation, I sent York a WhatsApp message.
Headlights flooded the garden as Quinn's car rolled into the driveway.
Quinn stepped out of the car, his long legs unfolding gracefully. He paused briefly when he saw me, then hurried over to where I stood.