Outside the hospital room stood two figures.

It was Martin and Stella.

Martin said, "Remington, your godmother pulled through, and she begged me to save Quinn's child. I've also consulted the doctor, and although the kid has congenital issues, he can survive. The Wests will spare no effort to save this child."

Remington frowned in silence while Stella looked downcast, handing him a medical report.

"Remington, this is my full medical check-up. The doctors said the years I spent locked up in a dark place and being abused have caused serious damage to my body. I might never be able to have children. My brother's child might be the only hope for the West family. Please."

Remington clenched the health report, his brows furrowed deeply.

A throbbing pain pulsated in his temples. He lowered his gaze, tiredness and irritation flashing through his eyes.

Remington returned to Oakridge Heights late at night.

He pushed open the bedroom door to find it pitch dark, with Lizetta sleeping peacefully on the large bed.

He remembered how, no matter when he returned or how late it was, there would always be a lamp left on in the room.

A dim light.

when she was a child, was afraid of the dark.

a light she had left for

now she even extinguished that

longer waiting

then slowly

her arms crossed in front of her chest, even in sleep,

of someone who was feeling

child, she used to sleep like this for a

in the middle of the night, Remington would adjust the little girl's

time to correct her

her current sleeping position felt like a

feel that all his past care was in vain. Overnight, she had withdrawn

let go, even if he had to shatter her shell, he'd keep her

fingers. After placing

opened her eyes, rubbed her hands against the sheets in annoyance, and then rolled over to

a regular ward

had happened to her after Yolanda got

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