Chapter 3
Nolan said, "These are Lila's medical records from her last few days. She suddenly developed heart failure and pulmonary edema in the early morning.
"We tried to save her for two hours, but we failed."
Adrian snatched up the medical records and stared at those cold words.
Adrian's fingers shook as he ran them over the paper and said, "No way. She... She should've been able to hold on."
Nolan said, "Her health was always unstable. She had end-stage renal disease, and there just wasn't a suitable kidney donor. Honestly, making it three years was already a miracle."
"A kidney donor?" Adrian raised his head suddenly, his eyes blazing red. "How could there not be one? I had Clara tested for a match half a year ago! She's her sister. How could they not be compatible?"
Nolan was stunned for a moment and asked, "Clara? The one who died after donating her liver?"
He sighed and added, "Clara passed away half a year ago. How can she donate a kidney to Lila now?
"And even if she were still alive, being related doesn't mean they'd definitely be a match."
Adrian shouted, "You're talking nonsense! Clara isn't dead. She pretended to be dead just to avoid donating her kidney!
"Even Lila's death is fake. You're all conspiring against me, putting on this act!"
He slammed the medical records on the table.
Nolan's face darkened.
He said, "Sir, please respect the dead!
"Lila's body was taken care of by one of Clara's friends. The cremation certificate is kept at the funeral home. If you don't believe it, you can go check it."
Adrian froze in place, his lips quivering.
He glanced at Nolan's stern expression, then looked down at the papers scattered across the floor.
The medical jargon, the vital signs, the lists of drugs used in the rescue.
They were too real.
So real it sent a chill down his spine.
Adrian seized on the last bit of doubt and asked, "Her friend? What friend? She never had any friends, did she?"
Nolan replied, "It's Mr. Mitchell. He said he was Clara's college classmate and helped handle the funeral arrangements."
"Mr. Mitchell?" Adrian muttered, almost clinging to the name like a lifeline. "Do you have his contact? Give it to me!"
Nolan hesitated for a moment, then pulled up a number from his phone.
Adrian snatched his phone and dialed it right away.
But the call didn't get through.
He dialed again, also in vain.
He refused to give up and called the funeral home.
This time, someone picked it up.
The staff member said, "Lila? Yeah, there was a young girl by that name sent here last month.
"Her sister's friend took her ashes. He said that she was to be laid to rest with her sister."
"Her sister... Is she really gone?" Adrian's voice trembled.
"She died half a year ago because donating her liver," the staff replied, totally unfazed, like facing death was just part of the job. "Neither of them had it easy. It's a pity."
The phone hit the ground with a sharp smack.
Adrian stood there, frozen in place.
The hallway's ghastly white lights washed over his face, making the red in his eyes stand out starkly.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something, but no words came out.
After a while, he slowly squatted down and picked up the medical record paper on the ground.
"Why?" Adrian finally spoke, his voice rough and broken like an old bellows. "Clara, are you really dead? Then Lila..."
He stopped short.
It suddenly dawned on him, just half a month ago, he'd actually looked up Lila's admission records.
At that time, the system showed Lila was still in bed 37.
But if Lila died last month, what did he actually see in those records?
Who messed with them? Or maybe...
He stood up abruptly, grabbed his car keys, and rushed to the parking lot.
Adrian shouted, "It's all fake! It has to be!"
When he started the car, he was shouting into the void, trying to convince himself.
"Clara, just you wait! I will definitely tear your tricks apart!"
The engine roared, and the car shot forward like an arrow.
He just kept driving, no destination in mind, then grabbed his phone again, his fingers shaking as he punched in a number.
This time, he wasn't calling the hospital or the funeral home.
Adrian snapped, "I need you to dig into two things for me, right away.
"First, pull every admission and discharge record for Lila, bed 37, nephrology at Central Hospital, last month. I want every edit log, too. I want to find out exactly who messed with her files.
"Second, look into a guy, Mr. Mitchell. Doesn't matter what his full name is. He was Clara's college classmate, handled her funeral half a year ago, and picked up Lila's ashes last month."
The person on the other end replied, "Okay."
Adrian hung up the phone, but did not put it down.
He stared at the black screen, his gaze vacant for a few seconds, then suddenly unlocked it again and started frantically searching through his contacts.
"Clara," he whispered.
His fingers moved rapidly across the screen.
Finally, his finger stopped on a contact saved as "trouble."
It was my number.
He hadn't called me for half a year.