Reborn From Oblivion
Chapter 342

Nathalie was quick on her feet, and it didn't take long for her to sort out Patrick's discharge papers. Before they knew it, the medical staff were in the room, ready to detach all the equipment hooked up to Patrick. Miranda tried to intervene, tears streaming down her face, "He's in so much pain. How's he supposed to manage without the pain medication infusion pump?"

The staff had heard bits and pieces of their family's chaotic history. They couldn't help but voice their frustration, "You're sick and in the hospital, yet you don't expect your own daughter to take care of you. Instead, you burden your adopted daughter with this duty. You never even raised her! Isn't it a bit heartless to guilt-trip her like this?"

Patrick felt the weight of shame crash down on him. Miranda silently wept.

Without the pain medication infusion pump, Patrick's discomfort soon escalated. His soft groans turned into piercing cries. "Ah, the pain! It's unbearable! Doctor, I'm not leaving. Put the pain meds back on, please."

Nathalie stood at the doorway, arms crossed, watching Patrick with a frosty gaze.

Desperate, Miranda turned to Nathalie. "Please, Nathalie, let bygones be bygones. You gotta help him."

"Help him? Haven't I done enough?" Nathalie shot back. "I've already given up a kidney for his daughter. What more do you want? For me to lose money, too?"

Realizing her mistake, Miranda pleaded, "Please, don't worry. I won't let you lose any more money. I'll figure something out. Just make sure he can stay in the hospital."

Nathalie cast a glance at Miranda's legs. "He's living comfortably with you still around. But have you thought about what happens when you're bedridden like him? Then what?"

"I still have you. You're my daughter. I raised you, so it's your duty to take care of me," Miranda insisted, her voice firm.

Nathalie scoffed, "How can you say that with a straight face?"

Miranda fell silent.

Nathalie shattered her illusion. "I won't be around in the Capital much longer."

Miranda's expression faltered. "What do you mean?"

"I'm moving abroad soon, and I probably won't be back," Nathalie said.

Panic flashed in Miranda's eyes. "Are you abandoning me?"

Nathalie chuckled. "Go ahead and sue me. I'll tell the judge exactly how you treated me."

Miranda turned pale. "Nathalie, you've changed."

"Yeah, I've become less of a pushover, haven't I?" Nathalie replied, reading Miranda's unspoken admission. Nathalie had no patience for further argument and told Patrick, "You're all set to leave. Get up, let's go home."

Despite the pain, Patrick struggled to sit up. He turned to Miranda. "Honey, help me out of bed."

Miranda maneuvered the wheelchair closer, and Patrick leaned on her shoulder for support. The two of them moved awkwardly forward, inching along.

Nathalie led the way, glancing back occasionally with a faint smirk on her lips.

For Patrick, it might have felt like an eternity, but in reality, he'd barely moved a meter from the bed. Eventually, he couldn't take it anymore and collapsed, pleading with Nathalie, "Nathalie, if you're gonna put me through this, just let me die quickly."

Nathalie gave him a sharp look. "Still trying to play games with me? You think I'd let you die easily only to have your daughter accuse me of murder?"

Patrick's intentions were exposed, and he hung his head in defeat.