Whisper - Chapter 126: Chapter 126

The Healer's Compassion 2
He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press the issue either. After promising to meet again for a run at the same time the next day, he walked off down the hallway.
As we headed toward the exit, Emma’s condition worsened. Her coughs came harder, deeper, and more frequent. The doctors said she was stable, but I could tell she wasn’t. Something was getting worse.
They suspected it was leukemia, but the symptoms were progressing faster than expected. Months, they said. Maybe weeks.
I stopped walking, my mind racing. There has to be something more we can do.
Maybe the specialist in Chicago could help. Emma deserved that chance, and I was going to make sure she got it. I reached into my bag, pulling out my notes. If it was necessary, I’d take her there myself. I didn’t care what it cost. If there was a way to save her, I would find it.
As we were leaving the clinic, Emma surprised me with a smile warmer than any she’d shown in days. It caught me off guard—this fierce little fighter who had every reason to be bitter still found the strength to smile. That small moment of light reminded me why I was doing this.
The air outside was crisp with the scent of early autumn. The medicine shop across the street played faint music from its outdoor speakers, and the neon signs blinked softly in the growing dusk. Emma’s shoes tapped lightly against the sidewalk as we walked toward the bus stop, the only sound between us for a while.
I was so absorbed in my thoughts—and in reviewing the case—that I completely forgot about my dinner plans with Connor until my phone buzzed.
“Hello!” his voice rang out through the line, a mix of worry and casual charm.
“Snowbar Bistro? You’re half an hour late.”
I closed my eyes. Guilt washed over me.
“Connor, I’m so sorry. I completely lost track of time.”
“Are you alright?” The concern in his voice was immediate.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “I’m at the office working on a case. The siblings I told you about—the factory worker who lost his hand and his sister with leukemia—it’s worse than I thought.”
There was a pause.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard.
“What?”
“Dinner,” he clarified. “Have you had anything since lunch?”
I glanced at the clock – 9 : 30 PM. I hadn't eaten since the hospital lunch hours ago.
"No," I admitted. "I've been too focused on this case."
"I'm picking you up," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Text me the address."
"Connor, you don't have to-"
"Olivia." His voice softened. "Let me take care of you while you're taking care of everyone else."
A small smile formed on my lips at his concern. "Okay. I'm at Moonlaw Legal Services on Fifth Street."
"I'll be there in twenty minutes."
After hanging up, I turned back to my notes, considering the challenges ahead. Even if we won the case- which I was confident we would – collecting the compensation would be another battle entirely.
Companies like Northern Industrial Factory often dragged out the payment process, knowing that vulnerable clients couldn't afford to wait. Meanwhile, Noah needed specialized treatment for his injury, and Leah's condition was deteriorating rapidly.
I made a decision then, reaching for my phone again. The Moonlight Charitable Foundation answered on the third ring.
"This is Olivia Winters," I said. "I'd like to make a donation."
By the time I finished the call, I had transferred ten million dollars to the foundation, with specific provisions. for the Pierce siblings ' care. I structured it carefully to preserve their dignity – the foundation would cover their medical expenses as part of a broader program for injured workers, not as direct charity.
I also sent Emma a separate transfer of $ 200,000 for daily expenses and to hire household help while she focused on supporting the siblings.
Her response came almost immediately – a voice message filled with tears and gratitude.
"Olivia," Emma's voice cracked with emotion. "I don't know what to say. You've shown more compassion to these kids than anyone ever has. Thank you doesn't seem enough, but ... thank you."
I was still smiling at her message when my phone rang again. This time it was Jason Mitchell from the legal team I'd assembled for Noah's case.
"We've got the preliminary injunction," he reported. "The factory can't destroy any evidence related to the accident."
"That's excellent news," I said, feeling a small victory. "What about the safety inspection records?"
"Still working on getting those subpoenaed. Their lawyers are fighting us every step of the way."
"Keep pushing." I urged. "Those records will prove they knew about the safety issues long before Noah's accident."
After hanging up, I gathered my things, preparing to meet Connor. Despite the challenges ahead, I felt more purposeful than I had in months. This case mattered – these siblings mattered – and I was determined to help them.
( Connor's POV )
The evening traffic parted before my Cullinan SUV as I made my way toward Moonlaw Legal Services. Olivia's voice had sounded tired on the phone, and I found myself pressing the accelerator a little harder, eager to see her.
My wolf was restless, concerned about our mate working too hard and not taking care of herself. The protective instinct had only grown stronger since our engagement became official.
I was just turning onto Fifth Street when my phone rang through the car's speaker system. Frank Langley's name appeared on the dashboard display.
"Rivers," I answered, keeping my eyes on the road.
"Sir," Frank's voice was tense, lacking its usual calm efficiency. "Something bad has happened to Vanessa
Reed!"
My hand tightened on the steering wheel, instantly alert. "Explain."