Chapter 2176
Before Felix could finish his sentence, Miranda’s glare cut through the air, silencing him mid-breath. Whatever courage he’d gathered shrank back into his chest like a frightened animal.
“What are you afraid of?” she hissed. “You’re the one who was bullied. You don’t owe anyone an apology.”
Her fists clenched at her sides as she spat the words at Nathaniel. “Stop pushing us, Nathaniel. There’s a limit to how much intimidation we’ll tolerate.”
At that moment, Robert strode in, Adrian a step behind him, the foyer doors sighing shut against a rush of night air.
Robert absorbed the scene in a single glance—grandson trembling, daughter-in-law blazing, nephew unmoved. One brow lifted slightly. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice steady as an oak trunk.
He was unnervingly calm, betraying none of the judgment quietly forming behind his eyes.
Miranda exhaled in relief, as though a lighthouse had finally cut through her storm.
“Dad, you’re back,” she said quickly. “Please—talk some sense into Nathaniel. Felix and I need your help.”
She launched into her account of the day’s events, embellishing each detail until Felix’s situation sounded like a fresh tragedy inked in bold strokes.
Robert listened without interruption, his expression an unreadable ledger.
Adrian hurried to his son, kneeling until their eyes met. “Felix, are you okay? Does anything hurt?”
Felix’s lower lip trembled. Tears spilled over, tracing warm lines down his cheeks.
“Daddy, you’re finally home,” he cried, relief crashing through him as he wriggled free of Miranda’s grip and threw himself into Adrian’s arms.
His sobs came less from Charlotte’s earlier blows than from the suffocating dread cast by Nathaniel’s looming presence.
Adrian’s chest tightened. He looked up, voice shaking but resolute. “Nathaniel, I know I’m nowhere near your level, but that doesn’t give you the right to bully my son.”
Nathaniel had always considered Adrian weak. Seeing him stand firm for his child flickered a trace of surprise across his otherwise composed face.
“You said Felix suffered serious injuries,” Nathaniel replied evenly. “If that’s true, then a comprehensive examination is the most responsible course. As for radiation, don’t concern yourself—Zachary will personally oversee everything. The tests won’t so much as inconvenience your son’s health.”
His tone was smooth, measured, each word landing with the quiet authority of a judge’s gavel.
The moment those words settled, Miranda and the others found themselves scrambling, suddenly short on excuses.
Still oblivious to the undercurrent, Adrian barreled ahead before his wife or father could intervene. “Fine. Take him for another examination. But if my son is hurt anywhere, I won’t spare Charlotte. Do you understand?”
Miranda shot him urgent, warning looks, but he pressed on, unmoved.
In the end, Adrian agreed to Nathaniel’s plan with the stubborn momentum of a bull charging a red flag. Nathaniel hadn’t expected their return to smooth the path so easily, but the knot in his chest loosened nonetheless.
On the drive to the hospital, the air inside the car felt tighter than the seat belts.
Miranda held Felix in her lap, her heartbeat pounding so loudly she feared he could feel it.
She knew perfectly well there wasn’t a single mark on the boy—but a hospital visit meant an examination built on nothing but lies.
As the hospital came into view, she spoke softly. “Felix, when the doctor checks you in, don’t be scared. Just tell him where it hurts, okay? Remember how you told the last doctor your head hurt? Make sure you tell this one the same thing.”
The words were a code, wrapped in maternal gentleness.
Felix understood immediately. He nodded with exaggerated seriousness. “Okay.”
Nathaniel, seated nearby, saw straight through the little performance. He said nothing, allowing their voices to wash past him like distant surf.
When they arrived, Zachary was already waiting beneath the portico, coat buttoned, eyes sharp.
The moment Nathaniel had called earlier, Zachary had dispatched Vivian to gather every detail. Now he stood ready, armed with context and resolve.
The car rolled to a stop, tires whispering against the curb.
Zachary stepped forward, purpose in every stride, impatience held in check only by professionalism.
The doors opened in sequence. Nathaniel stepped out first, followed by Felix, Miranda, Robert, and finally Adrian—each face carrying a different shade of worry as they converged on Zachary.
Zachary greeted the elder first. “Good evening, Mr. Robert.”
Robert dipped his chin and, by way of polite conversation, asked, “Good evening, Zach. How has your grandfather been lately?”