Chapter 357/I Am No Angel of Mercy
Chapter 357
Julie’s point of view
Thomas shifted his head with an agonizing slowness, interlocking his slender fingers as he delivered in a faint, continuous tone that carried a bizarre sorrow alien to his cruel nature: "I have a small grandson in the spring of his life... his name is Adam."
In that fleeting second the words left his mouth, I felt a sudden, violent, and burning constriction squeeze the walls of my heart with immense force. The air dried out and froze within my chest for a moment, and the heat of apprehension and burning doubt surged through my veins while my mind screamed with that cursed question that nearly killed me: *Does Robert have a son?! Did Robert father a child with alternative women after my absence and our separation?!*
I fought with superhuman effort to stabilize the edge of my voice and prevent my tones from fracturing despite the terror and hidden jealousy devouring me. I uttered with caution and dryness: "Your grandson? And who exactly is this little one?"
He twisted his mouth in complete serenity, pursuing in the same low pace: "He is Harold’s son... my eldest son and Robert’s brother. He is his firstborn child."
At that exact millisecond, I let out a highly audible, clear sigh of relief. The knotted muscles of my shoulders slowly unraveled as though a mountain had been lifted off my chest. I genuinely could not have tolerated or comprehended the notion of Robert possessing a child from an alternative female in this life.
Even if I harbored toward him on the surface all this hatred, resentment, and black malice in my depths, I simply could not tolerate the thought.
I rapidly returned to my customary cold detachment, asking in a dry tone devoid of interest: "And what do I have to do with this grandson of yours or Harold’s son, Mr. Thomas? Why are you reciting your family history to me?"
He looked directly into the absolute depths of my eyes with a terrifying focus, uttering with a nerve-shredding calmness: "He is exactly three years old... a small child who has witnessed nothing of the world yet."
The absolute millisecond he uttered his number and age, a burning lightning bolt of buried memories struck my mind. The strings of my chest vibrated with an ancient, lethal agony, and in the darkness of my memory, the image of my departed child, Ethan, materialized before me. If my son and the apple of my eye were alive and breathing in my hands today, he would also be exactly three years old now.
My sorrowful thoughts were severed by Thomas’s rough voice as he completed in the same grave tone: "And he is exceptionally ill, indeed. He suffers from an intractable problem and failure in his liver functions. The medical team supervising his condition has informed us that his health status may deteriorate dangerously and rapidly in the next few months if we do not discover a solution."
Despite all my detachment and the manufactured cruelty I had discovered within myself with Jake, a feeling of pure sorrow, pity, and mercy toward that innocent little one seeped into my core. I stated in a low tone: "I wish him a speedy recovery and survival, but..."
He sighed with a heavy, genuine helplessness that displayed his vulnerability, pursuing: "The doctor has demanded of us in a firm, definitive manner that we locate a donor with a suitable liver segment as rapidly as humanly possible for a transplant. Otherwise, his condition will take a critical turn in a few months, and he will slip into a complete coma and a state of toxicity from which he may never awaken."
I stiffened my posture across the velvet sofa, narrowing my eyes in deep questioning and suspicion: "I am truly sorry for the little one’s affliction... but until this very second, I do not understand or comprehend what exactly it is you want from me in this regard?"
His jaw moved with a lethal bitterness, and he stated as helplessness spoke from his dark eyes: "To our immense, lethal misfortune... my son Harold and his wife do not match his blood type in the slightest, nor does my son Robert match him in any shape or form of the tests we have executed."
I remained as silent as a stone, listening to the hiss of his words and tones with a deadly calmness, wanting to discover where this suspicious conversation would ultimately lead and what the objective was. He completed, anchoring his dark eyes onto the expressions of my face with a hidden plea: "I have personally reviewed your old medical file, carefully preserved within the vaults of the club’s records... and you match the blood type and tissues of my small grandson, Adam, in an ideal, highly successful, and exceptionally rare manner."
My pupils widened slightly in shock, and my hand clenched with immense force over the fabric of the armrest until my knuckles turned white. I stated in a sharp bewilderment, trying to process the words: "Are you... are you demanding that I donate a segment of my own liver to your grandson?! Is this the favor?!"
He nodded his head with finality, his eyes welling with tears for the very first time: "Precisely... this is the sole request and favor for which I have come here personally, defying my own physical helplessness."
I let out a mocking laugh, filled to the absolute brim with bitterness, derision, and overflowing resentment. I stood up to my full, slender height to look down upon him from above with a violent anger that fanned his face: "After all these cursed, cruel years... you come crawling to me now and demand this with such sheer audacity and shamelessness?! After all those insults and filthy, degrading slurs?! Now you remember Julie!"
He didn’t move an inch in his chair despite my rebellion and screaming in his face. Instead, he asked with a serenity that dripped with reproach, playing masterfully on the strings of my emotions: "Do you not possess a heart pulsing with mercy inside your chest, Julie? Can you truly, due to the disputes of the past, abandon a small child of this tender age to die a slow death when he is in the absolute direst need of your assistance?"
I waved my palm through the air in an overflowing outburst, the veins of my neck protruding sharply: "That is entirely aside from the fundamental and critical issue here, Mr. Thomas! I am no fool for you to manipulate my emotions with such ease! What my mind utterly fails to comprehend or believe is how I of all people, across the vast expansions of the earth, crossed your mind after all these years? I find this matter highly bizarre, suspicious, and absolutely dripping with a conspiracy!"
The contours of his face shifted, his frozen features vibrating with a slight, visible panic due to my cornering of him. I pursued my aggressive strides toward him with heavy steps, my eyes radiating with lethal suspicion and deep-seated malice: "And how did it even cross your mind in the first place, and by what right do you review my private medical file at the club specifically? And how on earth did I specifically match your grandson in this pure, cursed, and highly calculated coincidence?! Are you plotting alternative, hidden schemes and fresh malice against me to drag me back into your world, Mr. Thomas?! Tell me!"
He moved his hand in a rapid, visibly hurried negation to repel the accusation: "Absolutely not, Julie... I swear to you that the matter is not as you conceive it in your mind. There is no conspiracy."
I stood directly before him at a distance of mere inches, crossing my arms in the stubborn resilience of a solid wall: "Explain it to me in absolute, exhausting detail, every single letter then... how did I cross your mind and how did you access my file at the club?"
He let out a gasping, exhausted exhalation from his chest, stating with a genuine fatigue that shattered his remaining aura of authority: "We have already executed a vast, intensive, and highly expensive search for matching donors across all hospitals and centers, and discovered absolutely zero compatibility due to the rarity of his tissues.
A desperate notion crossed my mind to search through the old ledgers of the club. I reviewed the periodic medical examination files of all the girls who were there, and even the staff without a single exception... but not a single one of them matched him due to his difficult, rare blood type... except you. We discovered your medical file matches Adam’s criteria in a mesmerizing manner, as though you are of one blood."
I twisted my lips into a cruel, unmerciful sneer at the helplessness of his advanced years: "And you arrived with absolute simplicity, coldness, and audacity to demand this monumental sacrifice... hoping and trusting in the deepest point of your depths that I would agree with absolute ease and come running behind you?"
He nodded his head with a slight, sorrowful movement: "Yes... I was genuinely hoping for that from your humanity."
I took a wide step backward to distance myself from the perimeter of his cursed chair, stating in a sharp tone: "But I am under no circumstances whatsoever that kind, naive, and innocent girl anymore. You yourself, from your own mouth, stated a moment ago that I harbor a dark, cruel monster within me... how are you so effortlessly certain and confident that I will agree to salvage the grandson of a family that demolished my entire life?"
He moved the armrest of his wheelchair slightly to adjust his viewing angle, stating with a calmness born of a deep reading of souls: "I did not state that you are entirely devoid of good or never kind, Julie... but you possess an alternative dark side that requires harsh circumstances and positions to manifest. And now, the little one requires your help."
I turned my body away with absolute finality and rejection, stating in a dry, freezing voice that severed every shred of hope within him: "I will not agree in any shape or form, or under any circumstance whatsoever."
He stared at me in absolute, startled bewilderment, his pupils widening with deep trepidation and genuine terror at my reaction. He asked in helplessness and disbelief: "How on earth can you not agree?! It is certain death for the little one! I genuinely fail to comprehend the cruelty of your emotions and the death of your humanity!"
I walked with wide strides toward the entrance hallway of the house to clear his exit path, stating in a rigid tone that accepted no retreat or debate: "Everything is perfectly clear... my final, absolute, and sole response is no, and it will not alter even if the heavens collapse onto the earth."
He maneuvered his wheelchair rapidly to track my steps, closing the distance to mere inches as he cried out in a voice that begged for my submission and played on my fears: "He is an innocent, small child, by all that is holy! He requires your assistance and a segment of your liver to live and see the light... merely imagine for a single second in your mind... if he were your own son and required this absolute assistance from an alternative individual, what would you execute?!"
The exact millisecond he uttered those cursed words, an agony squeezed my heart with a sharp, crushing, and thunderous pain, as if a rusted knife blade had plunged into and ripped out my entrails in the depths of my chest due to the memory of my departed, deceased son. My jaw clenched with a violent force that made my teeth grind, but I fought with every ounce of strength I possessed, stating in a low, cutting voice that demolished all his attempts: "I do not agree... I am no angel of mercy for your family, and this is my final, absolute decision without debate, Mr. Thomas."
He let out a dark sigh of disappointment blended with a bitter resentment and malice, stating as he looked into the absolute depths of my eyes with disgust: "I never expected you to be entirely stripped of all meanings of mercy in this hideous, exceptionally repulsive manner!"
I walked the remaining two steps toward the external door in defiance. I gripped the metallic handle and threw it completely wide open, allowing the gusts of freezing, biting air to rush inside. I pointed outside with a rigid hand that trembled despite myself due to my intense outburst, stating in a loud voice: "Yes... I am exactly that. And now... get out of my home this instant, without return and without excess words!"
He engaged the wheelchair with the button, slowly crossing the threshold of the door to exit into the external pathway. Before he distanced himself completely from my perimeter, he turned his head to pierce me with a confident look, stating with a bizarre calmness: "I will grant you some sufficient time to contemplate the matter between yourself and your soul... and I am in absolute, confident certainty that you will alter this opinion of yours."
I ground my teeth in malice, stating mockingly of his confidence: "I will not alter it at any cost."
He anchored the wheels of his chair for a single second with supreme confidence, delivering in an ambiguous, terrifying tone: "You most certainly will... you shall see that for yourself very soon."
I shoved the door with every ounce of violence, hatred, and malice I possessed, locking it firmly in his provocative face. I leaned my exhausted, completely trembling back against the cold wood of the door, closing my eyes as my breaths caught in a sharp, hysterical pace and my heartbeats threatened to puncture my chest.
I genuinely did not know how to behave in this thunderous, sudden situation; I could not yet comprehend or believe the notion that he had discovered my secret, distant place here in this forgotten village, and now he arrived with such sheer audacity and simplicity to demand that I donate a segment of my own body to his grandson!
He is insane... completely insane and sick, by all that is holy, believing that the world revolves around his orbit!
My palms clenched with violent force over the fabric of my cotton trousers, and I whispered: "I will not donate a single atom of my liver to anyone... I will never execute that for the sake of their filthy family!"