Chapter 184: If Something Happens to You Too, What Becomes of This Family?
All the way there, Caroline Whitman held her son tightly. Ryan Grant’s small hand clutched her collar as he mumbled brokenly, “Mommy, I don’t feel good… Where’s Daddy?”
Caroline Whitman lowered her head, pressing her face against his feverish forehead. Her voice trembled as she fought back tears. “Daddy will be back soon. Sweetie, don’t be scared. We’re almost at the hospital. Just hang in there.”
When they arrived at the hospital, Jonathan Grant and Grace Lawson, who had gotten the call, had already rushed over.
A doctor was inside, conducting an emergency examination.
“What happened to Ryan? What’s wrong with his heart?” The elderly couple was frantic with worry upon hearing the news.
‘That shouldn’t be possible, though.’
After the family reunion, they had taken Ryan Grant for a physical. On top of that, after he caught a cold last time, they had taken him for another full check-up.
‘How could he possibly have a heart condition?’
Caroline Whitman was almost incoherent. “Ryan was perfectly fine before bed. He seemed completely normal. Then, around 11 p.m., just as my phone lit up with news about the flash floods and mudslides in the Southwest mountain area, he suddenly woke up and…”
As she spoke, Caroline Whitman trailed off. A possibility flashed through her mind.
‘If the child really is from the future, then if something were to happen to Adrian Grant right now, would it also affect the child’s own future?’
The test results came back. The doctor pulled off his gloves and said, “The results are in. It’s not a structural heart lesion; his EKG and cardiac enzymes are all normal. The child likely had a stress reaction triggered by fright or emotional distress. Just focus on comforting him. He’ll be fine after a few days of observation here in the hospital.”
Hearing this, Jonathan Grant asked anxiously, “But he’s still in pain. What should we do about that?”
Franklin Whitman added, “Are you sure nothing’s wrong? This kid is usually in perfect health. He’s never complained about chest pain before.”
Yolanda Young and Grace Lawson also rushed forward to check on the boy. Seeing that he looked no different from when they had arrived, their hearts ached even more.
Each of the parents chimed in, clearly unconvinced. The boy didn’t look like he was fine at all.
The doctor tried to reassure them, finally saying, “We’ll prescribe something to help calm him down shortly.”
Caroline Whitman stood to the side, not saying a word.
‘A stress reaction out of nowhere?’
She forced herself to calm down and looked at Jonathan Grant and Grace Lawson. “Dad, Mom, is there any news about Adrian?”
Jonathan Grant fell silent.
Silence itself was a bad sign.
“Dad, you all know Ryan’s situation. It can’t be a coincidence that he’s having a problem at this exact moment,” Caroline Whitman reminded him.
There were outsiders present, so she couldn’t say more.
But as soon as she said it, Jonathan Grant understood her implication.
He had no choice but to explain. “The mining area he was inspecting is up in the mountains. A local friend told me that around 4 p.m., a downpour triggered a mudslide in that region. A section of the road collapsed, and several cell towers are down. They’re still working on repairs. A rescue team has already been dispatched, but the road is washed out, so they can’t get in.”
Now it was Grace Lawson’s turn to be shocked and panicked. “What! Why wouldn’t you tell me something this serious?”
Franklin Whitman scratched his head, and Yolanda Young could only try to soothe her, murmuring, “It’ll be okay, it’ll be okay.”
Caroline Whitman fell silent. She knelt and gently intertwined her fingers with Ryan Grant’s. The little boy was still feverish, and he drowsily called out, “Mommy.”
Jonathan Grant added, “He took a few people with him, so he should be okay. I’ll try to find another way to get in touch.”
Caroline Whitman stood up. “Dad, Mom, please look after things here.”
As soon as she said this, Yolanda Young immediately understood her intent.
“Caroline, the roads over there are destroyed. What could you possibly do if you went?” She grabbed Caroline Whitman’s wrist. “It’s pouring over there. If you, a woman, rush over in the middle of the night and something happens to you on the way, what would Ryan do? What would we do?”
“Your mom’s right. Don’t be rash,” Franklin Whitman said, for once not wearing his usual carefree smile. “Adrian is tough as nails; he’ll be fine. You wait here for now. If there’s still no news by dawn, I’ll go with you.”
Jonathan Grant also spoke up. “Caroline, I understand how you feel. But the situation over there is unknown right now. Even if you rush over, you won’t be able to get into the mountains. I’ve already asked my friend there to find out what he can. I’ll notify you the moment I have any news.”
Grace Lawson, her eyes red, grabbed Caroline’s other hand. “Your son is still lying in that bed. If something happens to you, too, what will become of this family?”
Caroline Whitman stood rooted to the spot, four pairs of hands holding her back, four voices pleading with her.
She glanced at Ryan Grant on the hospital bed. The little boy was curled up under the covers, his cheeks still flushed. The doctor had given him medicine, and he no longer looked to be in so much pain.
“…Alright,” she said. “I’ll wait for news.”
Yolanda Young let out a sigh of relief and released her wrist.
Caroline Whitman draped her coat over the back of a chair, sat down by the hospital bed, and picked up her phone to send a message to Zoe Grant.
——
「3:00 a.m.」
“Sister-in-law, you have to come back safe and sound, or I’ll be the villain of the family. If my brother finds out I helped you sneak away behind everyone’s backs, I’ll be the first person he deals with when he gets home,” Zoe Grant said over the phone.
Caroline Whitman was already sitting in the helicopter. “Don’t worry.”
She didn’t say anything more reassuring, like “I’ll be fine,” not wanting to jinx herself.
She didn’t have that kind of pull on her own. Her only option was to use the Grant Family’s connections, but doing so would have alerted Jonathan Grant.
That’s why she had to contact Zoe Grant.
Zoe was abroad, but she was still remarkably efficient.
——
Yolanda Young was the first to realize Caroline Whitman was gone.
Caroline had said she was going home to get clothes for the boy. When she hadn’t returned over an hour later, Yolanda knew something was wrong.
‘I should have known,’ she thought. ‘I shouldn’t have let my guard down like that.’
There were no commercial flights to the Southwest at that hour, but she had surely used Adrian Grant’s network of contacts.
Her call was rejected, but a text message came through immediately after:
“I’m going to get Adrian! Mom, trust me, I’ll be fine.”
Yolanda Young’s legs gave out, and she nearly collapsed to the floor.
Franklin Whitman shot up from the sofa, took the phone, and the color drained from his face as he read it.
Hearing the commotion, Jonathan Grant and Grace Lawson came over. Jonathan was silent for a few seconds before picking up his own phone to call Zoe Grant.
The phone rang for a long time before it was answered.
Zoe Grant’s voice was laced with guilt. “Dad? You’re still awake so late…”
“Where is your sister-in-law?”
Zoe’s scalp prickled with dread. ‘They figured me out already? How?’
But at this point, with Caroline already on the plane, there was no use in denying it.
“…On a plane. She should be in the air by now.”
Jonathan Grant squeezed his eyes shut.
Grace Lawson snatched the phone and gave Zoe an earful. Zoe didn’t dare make a peep, waiting until Grace had finished before adding in a small voice, “Sister-in-law made me arrange it. I didn’t have a choice. She said… if I didn’t help her, she couldn’t go on living. Things like that.”
Grace Lawson was so furious she was speechless. She shoved the phone back at Jonathan Grant.
Jonathan Grant was silent for a moment, then simply said, “Sync your sister-in-law’s coordinates to my phone. I’ll contact the local rescue team and have them link up with her.”
The helicopter flew over the Southwest mountain area.
Caroline Whitman looked down out the window. The mountainside was scarred and torn apart by the mudslides. On some stretches, the entire roadbed had been washed away.
The pilot pointed ahead, saying they had made contact with the ground rescue team.
The helicopter hovered over a clearing. A rescue line was lowered. She buckled herself into the harness, gripped the rope, and was lowered smoothly to the ground.
A young man ran out from a temporary command tent, slogging through the mud and water.
His suit jacket was splattered with mud, and his rain-soaked hair was plastered to his forehead. He looked so disheveled that Caroline Whitman almost didn’t recognize him.
“President Whitman.”
“Assistant Carson?”