Chapter 1484


    After an intense treatment, Eleanor’s vital signs stabilized, but she remained unconscious, leaving


    everyone to wonder if she would ever wake up again.


    “Yates, you’ve gone too far this time,” Moore chided after finishing his work, casting a worried nce at


    Yates who sat beside the hospital bed. “If she doesn’t pull through this time, she may never wake up


    again…”


    “You can’t just shock someone’s memory back. You have to be gentle, roundabout. This way is too


    risky; you could end up killing her.”


    Yates didn’t respond. He just stared at Eleanor’s pale face, silently willing her to awaken.


    If her love for Bernard was strong enough, then surely the news of his death, along with the threat to


    their child, would ignite her will to wake. A Sharp had to be resilient. Without that resilience, they didn’t


    deserve the Sharp blood running through their veins.


    Yates believed with all his heart that Eleanor woulde back to them, and that his drastic methods


    would restore her memory quickly. After all, she had survived death itself; what was a little amnesia in


    So there he sat, vigil by the hospital bed, through the day and night, until the next morning when the


    snow began to fall again. That’s when Yates finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “Eleanor,


    my sweetheart, it’s time to wake up.”


    The critical 24-hour mark was approaching. If she made it through, she’d be fine. If not, he’d have to


    live with the guilt of having yed a part in her demise, adding yet another sin on top of what had


    happened to Bernard.


    As the seconds ticked by with no sign of Eleanor waking, Yates’ grip on his cane tightened. Just when


    he was about to give up hope, her fingers twitched…


    He quickly woke Moore, who had dozed off, “Her fingers moved, check her, is she waking up?”


    Moore, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, approached the bed and began to monitor her signs. “Let’s


    give it another five minutes to see if she opens her eyes. If she does, she’ll be alright…”


    Five minutes can be fleeting, but for Yates, they were excruciating, like ants on a hot pan, unable to sit


    still. He watched Eleanor, mentally urging her to wake up. Perhaps it was the power of his longing, but


    finally, she slowly opened her eyes…


    The first sensation was the biting cold of the snowkes, then gradually, awareness returned. But this


    time, as her clear eyes met Yates’, they were filled with a deep resentment.


    “Why are you so cruel?”


    Hearing this, Yates slumped with relief, seemingly unaffected by her hatred, only pleased that she had


    regained her memory.


    “Atst, you remember.”


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    Eleanor gave him a cold look and, with a grimace of pain, began to remove the tubes from her body. As


    she pulled them out, blood followed, her eyes watering with the pain, but she continued, determined.


    “What are you doing?” Yates cried, trying to stop her. “You need treatment after waking from a deep


    Sweating from the pain, Eleanorcked the strength to push him away. Instead, she red at him with


    bloodshot eyes, “I hurt him because I couldn’t remember. I have to find him…”


    Yates was adamant. “He’s not going anywhere for now. You can wait until you’re better to exin


    everything to him.”


    Eleanor frowned and, gathering all her strength, pushed his hand away. Then, she grasped another


    tube and yanked it out, blood flowing once more. She remained silent, continuing her task…


    Watching her stubbornness, Yates intervened again. “You may not care about hurting yourself, but as


    your grandfather, I do. Stop this, I’ll take you to him…”


    Eleanor lifted her eyes, now red and swollen, and looked at him coldly, “I don’t want help from a


    murderer.”


    Yates had nted a neural chip in Bernard’s brain, so he was no different from a killer in her eyes. The


    thought of Bernard suffering alone made the pain bearable. Clenching her teeth, she pulled out all the


    tubes and, supporting herself on the bed, attempted to rise.


    Her feet barely reached the edge of the bed when she copsed to her knees. Yates reached out to


    help, but Eleanor shoved him away, “You’ve already tried to kill him with that chip; don’t bother


    pretending to care about me now…”


    Helping Eleanor to her feet, Yates sighed, “The chip wasn’t my doing. It was 1-2, Kermit Hyde. Back


    then, I didn’t know you were Bernard’s wife, or my granddaughter. I just saw potential in him and


    wanted to keep him around. The chip was to ensure he stayed in line…”


    Eleanor shook off his hand, “Even if he wasn’t my husband, what you did-opening his skull, putting that


    thing inside-it must have hurt so much. He’s flesh and blood, and you treat his life like it’s nothing…”