Chapter 4 Throw Out

Richard glanced at the rearview mirror as he spoke. Suspicion crept across his face. "Why does that car keep following us? Ms. Madeline, hold on." He got ready to merge onto the overpass. Madeline glanced at the side mirror. The car behind them was the same black Rolls-Royce that had been parked at the villa entrance earlier. She narrowed her eyes slightly. Was it after her? Or was it after this car? Could the accident earlier have been deliberate? She withdrew her gaze and calmly said, "This is one of the most congested roads in Jonesville. Traffic is heavy. It's probably just going the same way." Then, she looked ahead. Once they got on the overpass, it would lead straight to Kingsbourne. Clifford Jillard was the only person in the Jillard family who had ever been genuinely kind to her. She owed him a visit before leaving. "Mr. Lexington, could you change course and head to Third Avenue Hospital? I need to visit a patient. Take the back roads. I know a shortcut." Richard understood her request and veered off the highway according to her directions. The black Rolls-Royce sped past them. … In the cardiac ward hallway of Third Avenue Hospital, Madeline stood outside Room 302. Through the glass window, she saw the frail, unconscious Clifford breathing through a ventilator. Her heart ached. When she was little, Jonathan and Margaret were always busy with business. Clifford had been the one who raised her. The man who could once lift her with one hand now lay wasted. "Ms. Jillard, your grandfather's condition doesn't look good," said Harry Jefferson, the hospital director's son. "He has a low ejection fraction. At his age, he simply cannot withstand the risks of surgery. The family should spend more time with him." Harry was gentle and refined. He specialized in cardiology, had trained at a prestigious university overseas, and was now Clifford's attending physician. He had always been conscientious. Over the past two years, the two had grown familiar thanks to how often Madeline had stopped by. Madeline handed him a small medicine bottle. "This is a two-month supply. It'll ease him a little." Harry's eyes widened at the "HN-IV" label on the bottle. "Isn't this the Type 4 drug Horizon Research Institute just developed? I heard about it through my mentor. How did you get hold of this?" He quickly twisted the cap open. When he saw that the bottle was filled to the brim with capsules, he froze. "One capsule is already going for 500 thousand dollars on the black market. This whole bottle is worth tens of millions." Madeline offered no explanation. She had made those capsules herself. The formula was more precise than the ones she had submitted to Horizon Research Institute. She had even specifically tailored the ingredients and dosage to Clifford's condition. They were one of a kind. "Thank you," she said. She gave Harry a faint smile and glanced at Clifford once more before turning to leave. Harry suddenly spoke up. "The Jillards don't know about this, do they? They've been hinting around with me for years. They can't wait for Mr. Jillard Senior to die. There's no way they'd spend this much money on medicine." Madeline paused. After a moment, she turned back to him. "Consider it a favor I owe you. Take good care of him." The elevator was at the end of the hallway. As Madeline passed through the VIP ward, urgent voices sounded from an open room. "Quick! Administer double doses of epinephrine! Get the defibrillator, now!" A sharp-looking woman in her 30s was leading the rescue. Eleanor Jameson lay unconscious on the bed. Her lips were tinged purple, and vomit still stained the corner of her mouth. It wasn't cardiac arrest caused by heart disease. Madeline's expression tightened. "Stop! You'll kill her!" A double dose of epinephrine followed by defibrillation would be fatal. The doctor adjusting the voltage looked over coldly. "Who are you? Get out!" Madeline walked straight into the room. "There are many causes of cardiac arrest. Not all of them originate in the heart. Her symptoms clearly show it isn't. If you force epinephrine and defibrillation, she won't survive." The doctor was Danielle Yates, chief cardiologist and the Jameson family's private doctor. She was used to looking down on everyone. Even the hospital director deferred to her. She wouldn't tolerate anyone challenging her authority. "What are you waiting for? Kick her out." The two bodyguards inside rushed forward. Madeline noticed that the injection was seconds from being administered, so she moved fast. She twisted both guards' arms before lunging forward and knocking the nurse's hand away. "You're killing her!" she screamed. "You're the one wasting the golden window!" As the two clashed, a nurse cried, "Ms. Yates, her blood pressure is dropping fast! What do we do?" Panic flashed in her eyes. Every minute counted when saving a life. Madeline swiftly stepped forward, took the scalpel, and made an incision in the elderly woman's trachea. She quickly severed the IV tube to create a temporary airway. "What are you doing?" Danielle screamed. The readings on the blood pressure monitor began to stabilize. The nurse whispered, "It was an obstruction, not a cardiac arrest." Danielle felt her face burn.