Chapter 463 The Place He Went
Rose wasn’t joking.
She didn’t panic. She didn’t frantically search for Ryan or waste time trying to track down his whereabouts.
Instead, she behaved like a physician.
Calm. Focused. Detached.
She methodically went through every aspect of his condition, treating his illness as the problem in front of her and nothing else.
Robert was more than willing to work with her.
But over the years, he and his team had held countless consultations about Ryan’s condition. They had reviewed the scans, discussed surgical approaches, consulted specialists, and explored every reasonable treatment option they could find.
None of them had produced a solution that was both effective and acceptably safe.
And Rose was Ryan’s ex-wife.
Robert couldn’t bring himself to bluntly tell her just how narrow their options really were.
While Robert made arrangements for the medical conference, Rose didn’t rest.
There were too many records.
Too many years of medical history.
She had to examine them one by one.
Charlotte stayed beside her, quietly watching.
When Rose became absorbed in something, she seemed to lose all sense of time.
She tied her hair back with a simple elastic, sat cross-legged on the carpet, and continued reading.
Hours passed.
Then more hours.
Charlotte studied her face for a long time before finally speaking.
"You really care about him, don’t you?"
Rose didn’t look up.
"After all these years, it seems like you two still have feelings for each other."
She paused.
"Rose, do you still love him?"
Rose turned another page.
"Love isn’t enough to build a life on."
Charlotte nodded.
"Fair point."
She stretched out across the sofa.
"But I think love might be the only thing Ryan has been living on."
Rose’s fingers stopped for the briefest moment.
Then she turned the page.
She didn’t answer.
Charlotte watched her.
"I can tell he cares about you. A lot. I think he’s spent years trying to suppress it, but people aren’t always in control of what they do instinctively."
She propped herself up on one elbow.
"Now that he’s sick... even if there’s a chance he could die, have you ever thought about giving him some hope? Maybe being with him again?"
"He won’t die."
Rose’s voice was quiet.
But every word was firm.
She finally lifted her head and looked directly at Charlotte.
"He won’t die."
Charlotte’s heart gave a small jolt.
She wasn’t a doctor, but even she understood how terrifying Ryan’s situation was.
The odds were bad enough to make anyone despair.
Yet Rose’s eyes held no resignation.
Only determination.
After a moment, Rose lowered her gaze again.
"As for getting back together..."
Her voice was calm.
"All I need to do right now is save him. His illness isn’t a reason for me to get back together with him."
She paused.
"If I made that decision because he was sick, because I felt sorry for him, or because people expected me to, then it wouldn’t really be a choice."
Charlotte fell silent.
Rose continued reading.
"I’m not thinking about whether we should be together. I’m thinking about whether he gets to live."
Only someone who survived had the luxury of deciding what came next.
Charlotte stared at her for a long time.
Then she smiled faintly.
"I knew I was right about you."
Rose glanced up.
"About what?"
"You’re stubborn as hell."
Charlotte grinned.
"And you have a mind of your own. Being pressured into something—or pitied into it—isn’t what anyone wants."
Her smile faded.
"Ryan included."
The next few days passed in a blur.
Charlotte had initially assumed Rose was simply forcing herself to remain calm.
She thought that eventually, when they failed to contact Ryan, Rose would lose patience and start searching for him herself.
But Rose never did.
Instead, she threw herself completely into the medical work.
The team worked almost around the clock.
Whenever a meeting ended without progress, Rose went back to the records.
She reviewed old imaging.
Cross-referenced laboratory results.
Read case reports and recent neurosurgical literature.
She called specialists in different countries and spoke with researchers late into the night.
She barely slept.
She barely ate.
And with every passing day, she seemed thinner.
By the fourth day, Charlotte could see the change clearly.
Rose’s face had become noticeably sharper, her complexion pale from exhaustion.
Yet her eyes remained frighteningly clear.
That kind of determination was unlike anything Charlotte had ever seen.
If Charlotte were in Rose’s position, she knew she’d probably be a complete mess—searching everywhere, making frantic calls, and losing her ability to think rationally.
But Rose didn’t allow herself that luxury.
She knew exactly what mattered.
Finding Ryan was important.
But finding him without having a treatment strategy ready would accomplish nothing.
Rose simply couldn’t afford to waste those precious days.
She knew she was exhausted.
She knew she needed sleep.
She still didn’t dare stop.
Most of her meals were whatever she could grab quickly—sandwiches, coffee, takeout, whatever happened to be nearby.
Time was running out.
Every hour mattered.
Diana kept messaging her throughout those days.
She asked about Ryan’s condition, checked whether Rose was holding up, and repeatedly told her not to blame herself or push herself too hard.
Rose barely had time to answer.
Then, one afternoon, Diana sent her a message that made her stop.
She and Liam had officially registered their marriage.
Rose stared at the message for several seconds.
Then she finally put down her pen.
For the first time in days, a genuine smile appeared on her face.
She typed back:
[Our Diana is going to be happy.]
She looked at the words for a moment.
Then added nothing else.
Her Diana would be much, much happier than she had been.
Rose put down her phone and returned to the research.
The next morning was the fifth day.
Before sunrise, Rose hurried to Robert’s office with a thick draft proposal in her hands.
She knocked once before pushing open the door.
Robert looked up in surprise.
"Rose?"
She walked straight to his desk and handed him the papers.
"This is a preliminary surgical approach."
Robert immediately took them.
Rose pointed to several sections.
"Based on the imaging we’ve reviewed, I think we can reduce the estimated operative risk to below sixty percent if we combine several approaches and use real-time navigation throughout the procedure."
Robert’s expression became serious.
"But there’s something else."
Rose took a breath.
"I want your team to evaluate a neurosurgical robotic platform I developed last year."
Robert looked at her.
"It’s designed for procedures in areas where the brain’s critical blood vessels and nerve pathways are densely packed."
She continued, her voice steady despite her exhaustion.
"It uses high-resolution imaging, real-time tissue mapping, and precision-controlled instruments to help the surgeon navigate around critical structures. It can also provide automated vessel identification and highly localized cauterization to help control bleeding."
Robert’s eyes widened.
"Where is it?"
"I found a hospital in London that has access to the system."
Rose looked directly at him.
"If we can get it here for testing, I want your team to evaluate whether it can be integrated into Ryan’s procedure."
She paused.
"If the system performs as expected, we may have another option."
Robert stared at the proposal.
For the first time in days, he could see something resembling a path forward.
It wasn’t a guarantee.
The machine hadn’t been tested on Ryan.
They didn’t yet know whether the technology could safely handle a tumor in his particular location.
But it was something.
Something they hadn’t had before.
Robert looked up.
"Rose, this is..."
He stopped.
She looked exhausted.
Her complexion was almost ghostly after days of working without proper sleep.
But her expression remained steady.
"You’ve come up with this in five days?"
Rose didn’t answer.
Robert’s expression became complicated.
Then he remembered something.
"There’s still one problem."
Rose looked at him.
"We haven’t been able to reach Ryan."
His phone was off.
His assistant hadn’t heard from him.
No one knew where he’d gone.
Robert’s team had been trying to locate him, but they had found nothing.
Rose leaned one hand against the door frame.
A wave of dizziness suddenly hit her.
She closed her eyes for a moment.
Then she said quietly, "I know where he is."
Robert froze.
"You know?"
Rose opened her eyes.
She glanced at the clock.
"I need to go back to the United States."
Her tone was already businesslike.
"It’ll take me at least three days, possibly a week, depending on what I find."
She looked at the medical plan on his desk.
"While I’m gone, I want you and the team to prepare everything. Review the surgical approach, test the robotic system, run simulations, and determine whether the procedure is actually viable."
Robert stared at her.
"And Ryan?"
Rose’s eyes hardened.
"I’ll bring him back."
Robert was stunned.
He had spent years watching Ryan fight his illness.
And now, in front of him, stood a young woman who was exhausted almost to the point of collapse, yet still capable of making decisions with extraordinary clarity.
No hesitation.
No confusion.
No wasted movement.
Robert finally nodded.
"All right."
His voice was solemn.
"We’ll do everything we can."
Rose gave a small nod.
She didn’t waste another second.
She packed only two changes of clothes, booked the earliest available flight, and left for the airport.
She didn’t return to New York.
Instead, she flew to a small town in the southern United States.
After all these years...
She was finally going back.
When she arrived, she was surprised by what she saw.
The town was completely different from the place she remembered.
The roads were newly paved.
The old buildings had been renovated.
Small hotels, restaurants, shops, and guesthouses lined the streets.
The surrounding landscape had been developed into a tourist destination, with walking trails and scenic overlooks drawing visitors from other parts of the state.
It was almost impossible to connect this place with the impoverished town she’d once known.
Back then, when Rose had first been brought here, the roads had been cracked and uneven.
Many buildings had barely been maintained.
The town had seemed forgotten by the rest of the country.
Now it had been completely transformed.
That kind of change required years of investment.
Land.
Infrastructure.
Workers.
And, above all, an enormous amount of money.
Rose had driven from the nearest major city after landing and rented a car.
The place she needed to reach wasn’t accessible by public transportation.
She had to drive into the mountains.
She hadn’t been here in more than ten years.
Fortunately, the route hadn’t changed.
Only the road had.
The rough mountain track she remembered had been replaced by a wide asphalt road winding through the hills.
Tall pine trees crowded both sides, their branches forming a dark green canopy overhead.
The drive was surprisingly smooth.
Rose kept both hands on the steering wheel.
As the road curved higher and higher into the mountains, memories she’d buried for years slowly began resurfacing.
Her grip tightened.
She didn’t know what she would find when she reached the end.
She only knew she had to see it for herself.
Eventually, she pulled over.
The engine fell silent.
Rose sat behind the wheel for several seconds without moving.
Then she looked through the windshield.
The place ahead was old.
Familiar.
Almost painfully so.
After more than ten years, she had finally returned.
Rose got out of the car.
She stood there for a moment, staring at the abandoned site where everything had begun.