Chapter 3 If Something Happens, I’ll Take Responsibility

The motorcycle drove out of the villa district, heading north.

Eleanor watched the gradually changing scenery around her, frowning slightly.

This direction... didn't seem to be toward the slums.

"Uncle Leo, where are we going?" she couldn't help asking.

"Home." Leo's voice mixed with the wind, not quite clear.

"But I heard people say our house is in the slum area."

Leo seemed to chuckle: "That's just what we put out there for people to see online, to guard against those with bad intentions. Your parents have special identities, they have to be careful."

Eleanor was stunned, her previous questions surfacing again.

What exactly were her biological parents' identities?

"So where is our home?"

"Crestview Estates."

Eleanor's heart skipped a beat.

Crestview Estates.

The most central location in Sovereign City, covering thousands of acres, an estate that outsiders couldn't even enter.

It was said to belong to a family that had lasted for several hundred years.

In Sovereign City, everyone knew about Crestview Estates, but few had actually seen what it looked like inside.

It was like a legend—luxurious, low-key, with a touch of "keep away" aloofness.

She remembered once when Grace attended a tea party and came back excited for days, telling everyone she met:

"I went to Crestview Estates! I just stood far away and got a glimpse. Just that front gate alone is more impressive than all our villas put together!

That lady's surname is Mitchell. I heard she's from a branch of the Crestview Estates family..."

When she said these things, that smug energy was impossible to hide, as if she herself had gained some benefit.

"Being able to see it with my own eyes in this lifetime is worth it! You don't know—the fish they keep in their garden pond cost hundreds of thousands of dollars each, enough for an ordinary family to live on for years!"

Eleanor was still young then. Hearing these words, she just felt it was something from another world.

Thinking about it now, it was truly ridiculous.

The wealthy family Grace tried so hard to curry favor with turned out to be her own family.

The Brown family thought they had already entered Sovereign City's wealthy circle, but compared to such a top-tier rich family, they were nothing.

She was silent for a while, then spoke: "Uncle Leo, can we go somewhere first?"

Leo tilted his head slightly: "Where?"

"Sunrise Assisted Living Center."

Leo was somewhat surprised: "What for?"

"My grandmother lives there." Eleanor's voice softened: "I want to see her one last time before going home."

Leo glanced at her through the rearview mirror. Without asking more questions, he just nodded: "Alright."

Eleanor really was kind. Even after how the Brown family treated her, she still cared about the Brown family's elders.

But having such qualities, no wonder she was a member of the Mitchell family.

Eleanor gave the address and said nothing more.

When her adoptive parents were just starting their business, the company was busy and they couldn't afford a nanny. It was Nova Ramirez who raised her single-handedly.

Nova was illiterate, but she taught her to recognize flowers and plants, and on summer evenings would fan her and tell her stories.

When she was sick as a child, it was Nova who held her and soothed her over and over.

Later when she started elementary school, Nova suddenly had a stroke and couldn't move half her body. Her adoptive parents found it troublesome and sent Nova to a nursing home, barely visiting a few times a year.

All these years she visited Nova every month, rain or shine.

The motorcycle turned into a small road and stopped at the entrance of Sunrise Assisted Living Center.

This was a rather upscale nursing home, with vines climbing the walls and several old locust trees planted in the courtyard.

Eleanor walked through the corridor and pushed open the door to the innermost room.

On the bed lay a thin old woman with gray hair and closed eyes.

"Grandma." She walked forward and held the old woman's hand.

That hand was so thin only bones remained, ice cold.

The heart monitor beside them suddenly made urgent beeping sounds.

Eleanor's expression changed. She quickly checked the old woman's pupils and pulse.

It was acute cardiac tamponade—danger of cardiac arrest at any moment!

"Uncle Leo, help me find a sterile surgical kit! Quickly!" Eleanor's voice was urgent but still calm.

Leo didn't know exactly what she wanted to do, but seeing Eleanor's determined expression, he gritted his teeth and rushed out of the room.

Not long after Leo left, a sharp voice came from the corridor.

"What are you doing?!"

A middle-aged woman in a white coat strode in, wearing a badge that read "Associate Chief Physician Linda Smith," her face very grim.

"Who gave you permission to touch my patient? This is a nursing home, not a place for you to mess around!"

"Dr. Smith, my grandmother has acute cardiac tamponade and needs immediate puncture." Eleanor kept her voice down, but there was already a chill in her tone.

"Cardiac tamponade?" Linda glanced at the monitor and sneered: "Are you the doctor or am I? I think you just want to kill your grandmother so you can get free sooner, right?"

Eleanor frowned, her fingers unconsciously clenching into fists.

Linda crossed her arms, continuing in an arrogant tone: "I know your grandmother's condition better than you. Medication control is fine. What surgery? Can you take responsibility if something goes wrong?"

Eleanor laughed coldly: "She has pericardial effusion compressing her heart right now. Medication won't solve the problem at all! By the time the medication takes effect, she'll be gone!"

"You—" Linda was momentarily speechless, then said angrily: "I'm her attending physician. If I say medication, then medication! Bianca, go get furosemide for intravenous injection!"

The nurse beside her hesitated, then turned to leave.

"Stop." Eleanor's voice wasn't loud, but it made the nurse pause.

She looked at Linda, her gaze cold: "My grandmother is allergic to furosemide. Three years ago, this very drug caused anaphylactic shock. They spent four hours resuscitating her. Since you're her attending physician, you wouldn't not know this, would you?"

Linda's expression froze.

She had only taken over this patient three months ago and hadn't carefully reviewed the medical records. How would she know about a furosemide allergy?

"I... of course I know!" Linda insisted stubbornly: "What I'm using is..."

She stammered, unable to explain herself for a long time.

The monitor's beeping grew more and more urgent. Eleanor stopped paying attention to her and pushed past her to the bedside.

"Move aside."

Just then Leo returned with the emergency kit. Eleanor took it, quickly put on sterile gloves, and picked up the scalpel.

Seeing this, Linda's face changed dramatically: "What are you doing? How dare you operate on a patient without authorization? Who'll take responsibility if something goes wrong?"

"I will." Eleanor didn't even glance at her. The blade had already made a light cut on the old woman's skin.

The incision was neat, exposing the tissue below.

Then she picked up the puncture needle, aimed the tip at the incision, and slowly inserted it.

In this moment, her entire demeanor changed, like a sovereign standing at the operating table.

Her fingers were very steady, every movement precise as if measured with a ruler.

After some time, she said quietly.

"There."

Dark red fluid slowly flowed out of the syringe, and the old woman's chest movements completely stabilized.

Eleanor didn't relax until the blood oxygen saturation on the monitor returned to ninety-three. Only then did she slowly withdraw the puncture needle and press gauze against the puncture site.

The entire process took less than four minutes.

Leo leaned against the door frame, his back already soaked with cold sweat.

He was from the Mitchell family—what scene hadn't he witnessed? But those few minutes just now, he felt he would never forget for the rest of his life.

A young woman, without any auxiliary equipment, had completed a pericardial puncture with her bare hands.

This required not only extremely advanced medical skills, but also incredibly strong psychological fortitude.

Eleanor's calm composure during surgery was stronger than any cardiothoracic surgeon he'd ever seen.

So what kind of person was this niece of his? Why did she have such advanced medical skills?

Linda hadn't expected Eleanor to actually complete the pericardial puncture. Her face was full of shock.

She clearly wasn't willing to give up, saying through gritted teeth: "This is practicing medicine illegally! I'm calling the police! I'll have you thrown in jail!"

"Who's practicing medicine illegally?"

An aged but vigorous voice suddenly came from the doorway.

A spirited old man strode into the room, followed by several doctors in white coats.

Linda saw who it was, and her expression changed instantly: "Director... Director?"