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.

it was because Lizetta, like when she was a child, was afraid of the dark. But now,

a light she

and now she

longer

the door, then slowly walked to

figure under the covers was curled up, her arms crossed in front

was a sleeping position of someone who was

child, she used to sleep like this for

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

took a long time to correct her

like a

vain. Overnight, she had withdrawn her trust and dependence on him, retreating

had to

Lizetta's hand and gently pry open her fingers. After placing her hand back

her eyes, rubbed her hands against the

transferred to a

that had happened

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