Chapter 614: Chapter 614: She Even Dared to Poison Me
Seeing the last bit of battery of her phone was about to run out, Ann Vaughn quickly said to him that she’d be going to the hospital soon, then hung up the phone and started looking everywhere for a charger.
"Wait..." Mark Joyce hadn’t finished his sentence, when a busy signal interrupted it, causing his eyelid to twitch.
Oh no!
Mark Joyce hurriedly called back, but to his surprise, Ann Vaughn had turned off her phone!
Ann Vaughn had not turned off her phone; it had simply shut down automatically after the call ended due to a dead battery.
After finding a charger in the corner and charging her phone, she went to the bathroom to wash and change, then went downstairs for breakfast.
Her car’s tail number was restricted today, so Uncle Dexter had arranged for a driver to take her to the hospital after breakfast.
The number of bodyguards outside the hospital room was nearly doubled compared to last night.
Just as Ann Vaughn was about to walk over, she was stopped by the hastily arriving Mark Joyce, "Miss Vaughn, the Madam hasn’t finished her check-up yet, and it might go until noon. Why don’t you come back in the afternoon?"
"I see, then I’ll just drop this medicinal food and leave." Ann Vaughn lifted the thermal box in her hand.
Mark Joyce’s gaze changed as he looked at the thermal box, and he immediately put on a perfect smile, "How about I bring it to the Madam for you? This way, she can have it right after her check-up."
"Alright, that would be helpful."
Without suspecting anything, Ann Vaughn glanced at the tightly closed hospital room door, handed the thermal box to Mark Joyce, and turned to leave.
However, just as she stepped away, a sound of something shattering abruptly came from the hospital room, causing her to pause in her tracks.
"...Is there someone in the hospital room?" Ann Vaughn stopped walking, looking a bit puzzled at Mark Joyce, "Wasn’t Aunt supposed to be at the check-up?"
"Yes, the weather has been dry lately, causing dust to accumulate easily in the room. So the director chose to have people clean the room while the Madam isn’t here," Mark Joyce replied calmly, "I’ll go in and check what they broke..."
Shhh—
At this moment, the hospital room door suddenly opened from inside, and it wasn’t the cleaning staff that Mark Joyce mentioned.
It was Henry Hawthorne’s assistant.
Seeing Ann Vaughn standing outside the hospital room, the assistant seemed a bit surprised, "Young Madam, you’ve come at the right time, Third Master has been looking for you."
Ann Vaughn threw a silent glance at Mark Joyce, who instantly quieted down like a quail, without asking anything, she said to the assistant, "I know."
No wonder it felt like Mark Joyce was deliberately blocking her, not wanting her to enter the room.
So her intuition wasn’t wrong.
Inside the hospital room.
The atmosphere was strangely heavy and stagnant; apart from the occasional low voice by the window, no other sound could be heard.
As soon as she walked in, Ann Vaughn felt pressured by the dense atmosphere, her heart tightening.
Instinctively, she looked at Cyrus Hawthorne, currently leaning by the window on the phone, her bright eyes suddenly froze.
He wasn’t wearing a suit jacket, but a simple, understated white shirt accented by dark gold threads at the cuffs, collar, and hem.
His long, straight legs wrapped in black wool pants, with just a hint of ankle exposed.
It’s often said that clothes compliment the person, yet on him, it feels like he’s enhancing the clothes; even the simplest attire is worn with a top-tier exclusive feel.
Such a cliché, but looking at his face, Ann Vaughn suddenly felt like she could do anything!
"Old Master, Third Master, Young Madam is here." The assistant, leading Ann Vaughn into the hospital room, softly reminded the two elderly men sitting on the couch with angry faces.
Ann Vaughn promptly shifted her gaze, obediently greeting Old Master Hawthorne and Henry Hawthorne.
"Annie, come sit." Henry Hawthorne directly ignored her, but Old Master Hawthorne showed her a smile and gestured to the seat next to him.
Ann Vaughn walked over as instructed and sat down, only then did she notice tea cup fragments on the ground beside the table.
"Do Grandpa and Uncle have business with me?"
"It’s me who has business with you." Ann Vaughn’s question had barely left her mouth when Laura Quinn, just wheeled back into the hospital room by a caregiver, coldly interrupted her.
Sitting in her wheelchair being pushed in, weak and emaciated, yet her face showed no sign of abnormality; her appearance couldn’t reveal her true health condition.
Truly outlandish.
Ann Vaughn lightly frowned in confusion, just as Laura Quinn came over to her and abruptly raised her hand to slap her across the face!
Ann Vaughn’s eyes locked in, directly catching Laura Quinn’s hand, her slender fingers pressing lightly on her wrist, carefully examining her pulse.
Laura Quinn’s pulse was weak, yet occasionally there was a thread of movement, but the toxin aiming straight for her heart showed no sign of subsiding; in fact, it had aggravated.
She had reviewed the examination report Dr. Kane sent her last night; Laura Quinn had only accidentally ingested a small amount of poison, logically, the toxin shouldn’t have spread so aggressively.
Before Ann Vaughn could figure it out, Laura Quinn pulled her hand back forcefully, and simultaneously Henry Hawthorne rebuked her, "Is this how you treat your elders?"
"I..."
"She dares to poison me, what is there she wouldn’t dare to do?" Laura Quinn coughed twice heavily, signaling to the caregiver.
The caregiver walked over with lowered eyes, then carried Laura Quinn back to the bed, standing to the side.
Laura Quinn reclined, sarcastically continuing, "Although I usually treated her poorly, she wanted me dead so that I wouldn’t block her path in the future."
The words were truly incriminating.
Ann Vaughn’s brows furrowed tightly, her mood hitting rock bottom, "I have never poisoned you."
As soon as she spoke, Henry Hawthorne tossed a batch of examination reports on the table, pointing to the files and coldly looking at Ann Vaughn, "We’ve already investigated, the reason Alana was poisoned was because there was a problem with the medicinal food you sent her daily."
"That’s impossible!" Ann Vaughn pursed her lips, picked up the document and began to review.
After reading the report, Ann Vaughn found that the medicinal food contained an ingredient, Strychnine, that wasn’t originally there.
Strychnine, when used in moderation, can be medicinal, but if overdosed...it can be fatal.
"You’re Young Madam of the Hawthorne Family, half of it belongs to you. Your mother-in-law doesn’t have much time left, yet you can’t tolerate her; you even want her dead!" Henry Hawthorne sighed, shaking his head with disappointment, "So narrow-minded!"
The Young Madam of the Hawthorne Family shouldn’t be such a narrow-minded woman.
If he had listened to Alana’s opinion earlier, perhaps none of this would have happened today.
Ann Vaughn’s mind was buzzing, unable to immediately refute Henry Hawthorne’s accusation, contemplating where the real problem lay.