Pathological Possession: Even Death Will Not Part Us-Chapter 151: Did She Ever Ask Me?

"Miss Eleanor is still bedridden, recuperating. The antenatal injection she recommended the other day has been thoroughly researched by the doctor. Generally, its efficacy is clear, and clinical evidence shows it has no side effects on the fetus, though the mother’s reactions may be more intense."

After the doctor diagnosed a threatened miscarriage and had not yet decided on medication, Eleanor’s first reaction was to recommend this antenatal injection, strongly insisting that the doctor use it.

Most Western doctors do not advocate for retaining a pregnancy at all costs, as early miscarriages are often related to embryonic development issues. If the embryo is not healthy, a miscarriage is considered nature’s selection.

Forcing a retention will inevitably impact the mother, causing severe harm in extreme cases.

Though not advocated, they have heard of this new type of antenatal injection and are aware of its significant side effects.

The doctor immediately refused.

Eleanor insisted, candidly stating that she had used it before.

The effect was immediate, and she herself didn’t have much of a reaction.

The doctor couldn’t persuade her otherwise, and Cillian feared that a firm rejection might lead her to suspect something else, such as how Damian Sinclair never opposed her opinions.

Two injections were used for the time being.

On the phone, the man was silent, clearly waiting for a detailed explanation.

Wells understood, "The main manifestations are that it can increase the pregnancy reactions of the mother to varying degrees depending on physical fitness. Clinically, the most common reaction is increased vomiting, accounting for 53%, with 20% experiencing dizziness, and 15% developing rashes, which in severe cases can spread all over the body, causing edema."

"The remaining 15% experience varied reactions, including difficulty breathing, dizziness, increased heart rate, etc. In rare cases, they might lose appetite, taste, or smell, or become extraordinarily sensitive. Only 5% of those who maintain long-term exercise and have outstanding physical fitness experience no noticeable side effects."

Cillian Grant’s face gradually darkened with each word, the stark white light of the hospital casting an astonishing chill over his face.

Wells didn’t state the consequences of increased severity, but Cillian knew.

He had deeply understood pregnancy. When pregnancy reactions reach a certain severity, it can lead to weight loss in the mother, increased ketones in urine, electrolyte imbalances in the body, severely damaging health, and being irreversible.

As for rashes, considering the fetus, special medication cannot be used, resulting in a slow and prolonged healing process. The itching is like a bone-chilling larva, intolerable even for a man of strong will.

Much less her.

Cillian asked, "What about her current reaction?"

"The reaction isn’t obvious yet, and Miss Eleanor has explicitly stated that her personal reaction isn’t significant, the only possible effect being sleepiness."

Wells was uncertain, "After the first injection, Miss Eleanor slept for a whole day. We immediately arranged for a doctor’s examination, the result being a normal reaction of the body protecting itself after excessive mental strain."

"Since yesterday afternoon, Miss Eleanor’s routine has returned to normal, so whether it is related to the injection still requires the doctor’s observation."

Cillian rubbed his brow, Eleanor had used this injection before, so any side effects would have already manifested.

During this week in Froskar, no rash appeared on her body. She vomited a few times, but it was within the normal range of pregnancy vomiting, not reaching the severity of hyperemesis gravidarum, and she experienced no dizziness or difficulty breathing.

Except for—

A small table was placed in front of Cillian. Suddenly, the computer emitted a notification sound, but he remained indifferent.

The sound echoed through the ward. As it continued, Damon Sharp happened to push open the door, seeing the man seated stiffly on the hospital bed, seemingly frozen like a statue.

His eyes fell on the computer screen where a pop-up window flashed with Mrs. Grant’s video request. He seemed to be watching it, yet not watching it, with a dark and complex chill.

Damon hesitated for a few seconds before stepping forward.

The sound of footsteps startled Cillian, who raised his hand to turn off the computer, his gaze falling on the document in Damon’s hand, his voice hoarse, "Have you found out?"

Damon put down the document and quickly reported softly, "Yes, as per your instructions, we checked Miss Elaine White and confirmed that the first time Miss Eleanor used the antenatal injection coincided exactly with your calculations."

Cillian’s five fingers suddenly clenched into a fist, the cold in his eyes almost condensing into sharp blades, gesturing for Damon to leave.

On the other end of the phone, Wells remained silent. Finally waiting for a reply.

The man asked, "She’s been eating Western food for several meals now, and hasn’t requested specific dishes during that time?"

"Yes, Miss Eleanor is very easy to satisfy with food."

Wells carefully explained.

"My father had initially hired a Therasian chef, but he is not skilled in light and nourishing cuisine. Considering Miss Eleanor’s health, my father decided to send someone to search for a suitable replacement, quickly switching to a cuisine more to Miss Eleanor’s taste."

Cillian’s purpose wasn’t in this, but in proving his suspicion.

Now proven, his already tense chest felt like an inflating balloon, ready to burst.

"Find a chef quickly, but considering she used the injection in Therasia, her taste might already be affected. Arrange for a quick medical check-up."

Wells was initially shocked and then responded, "Once the results are in, I will report to you immediately."

Cillian responded with a "Hmm," "I value her health more than the child."

This time, Wells paused longer.

His father had taught him that when communicating with Therasian people, one must fully understand every word in their speech.

Literal meanings diverge from true intentions, like an iceberg, with the peak above and the vast body beneath.

To grasp the hidden meaning requires calmness and deep exploration.

"Rest assured, I’ve informed the doctor to prioritize Miss Eleanor’s health." He was still hesitant, cautiously adding, "But if the antenatal injection is stopped, it might raise suspicion in Miss Eleanor."

"Just now, Miss Eleanor expressed suspicion. I used your instructed wording to temporarily calm her down. But with Mr. Ghost still in Froskar, and prolonged delays combined with the injection being stopped, I’m worried Miss Eleanor will notice something."

At this point, the telephone gave a prompt, Mrs. Grant persistently calling in. Cillian pressed the hang-up button, not yet replying to Wells. The screen once again displayed Mrs. Grant’s call interface. With an expressionless face, he cut the call, adding it to the blocked list.

When he spoke again, his voice unintentionally added a chilling touch, "She mentioned Mr. Ghost, you mention domestic chaos."

In fact, from the beginning, Cillian had no intentions of keeping Eleanor in the dark either, nor would he allow Damian Sinclair to take her away.

His initial plan was simple to the point it couldn’t be considered a plan.

Going out to sea for whale watching was purely because he wanted to meet with the gang leader on the ship, make agreements for the gang to protect Eleanor at all costs.

After all, with such a vast ocean between them, no matter how much effort his father put in, the effect would still be limited against local gangs, even if he eventually spared no expense and insisted on wrestling with them.

At that time, he had confidence that the domestic situation would have stabilized, no longer needing gang protection.

Unexpectedly, before going out to sea for whale watching, in the restaurant, while trying to bait Mr. Ghost, he inadvertently learned of her intentions.

The decisiveness and boldness were so intense, it reached the point of faking death to escape him.

Cillian felt as if a hand was reaching into his body, breaking his rib, gripping his heart, continuously suffocating him.

Unable to resist asking a question.

"Did she ever ask me about my condition?"

What was her reaction upon hearing he coughed up blood? Applause and approval, or at least a query into his injury?

She probably wouldn’t ask.

Before separation, her eyes were so bright, so cold, every moment filled with hatred.

Learning about the successful feigned death in the hospital filled her with joy, a smile that hadn’t appeared in the surveillance Wells sent, one he hadn’t seen in four years.

Spring’s first green touch, after a long frozen winter, a hope newborn—it was exhilarating.