Chapter 17

No sooner had Amelia settled into the chair across from Marc's desk than he passed her a folder filled with documents.

"My team and I have put together this treatment outline," said Marc, his tone measured. "Go through it. If it meets your approval, we'll begin Mrs. Davis' treatment right away."

Taking the thick stack of treatment plans in her hands, Amelia offered a word of thanks, then quickly began scanning the pages.

Every aspect of Michelle's care had been considered, from initial procedures to each step of rehabilitation after surgery.

Wyatt's efforts to bring Marc onto the case already put Amelia at ease, and seeing the thoroughness of the treatment plan gave her even greater comfort.

Once she finished reviewing the file, she raised her gaze, her gratitude evident. "Dr. Chapman, I've read through everything. I have complete faith in you. I trust that you'll heal my grandmother."

Marc waved away her praise, shifting his weight in his seat. "I appreciate your trust, but I need you to understand something. No doctor can promise a perfect outcome. I'll give my all for treating her, but surgery always involves risks, and I can't guarantee her recovery."

His commitment was unwavering, especially for Wyatt's sake, but even the best physician could not control everything.

Amelia,more aware than anyone of her grandmother's frail health,listened carefully.

Marc's honesty did not rattle her. She said, "I understand everything you've said, Dr. Chapman. Rest assured, I am prepared to face any outcome."

A trace of sorrow clouded her features as she spoke. Long years in medicine had made Marc almost immune to the grief of people. Yret as he studied her expression, his voice softened in reassurance. "Try not to lose hope so quickly. I am a skilled doctor, after all. Miss Flynn, you can believe in me a little more."

Marc's packed schedule allowed little time for small talk, so once they finalized the treatment dates,Amelia readied herself to leave.Before she could step through the doorway, a sudden thought made her pause.

Every medical detail had been addressed, but a vital piece was missing-the cost of the treatment had not been discussed.

A surge of worry swept over Amelia, prompting her to turn around. "Dr. Chapman,could you tell me what expenses I should expect for my grandmother's treatment?"

In the past, the Morrison family had always picked up the bills for her grandmother's treatment.

Now that she was determined to end things with Jaxton, continuing to rely on the Morrison family's money was no longer an option.

But her personal finances felt stretched thin.

Holding sixty percent of Morrison Group's shares sounded impressive, but until she got married, those shares were only symbolic-she had no access to real funds.

Marc reassured her, "You can set your mind at ease. Mrs. Davis' treatment has already been paid for."

He had received a hundred million dollars from Wyatt, after all.

And Wyatt might give him more as the treatment progressed, and the prospect left Marc more than a little thrilled.

Without needing to ask, Amelia knew who had taken care of the bills-Wyatt.

Not only had Wyatt arranged for Marc's involvement and a specialized team, but he had also covered every expense,leaving Amelia overwhelmed with gratitude. She had never imagined he would handle it all like this without mentioning anything to her.

Jaxton, on the other hand, had made a habit of reminding her how much he had spent on Michelle's treatments.

Jaxton paying for her grandmother's treatment was part of wwhy she had endured him endlessly.

Meanwhile,Wyatt had gone above and beyond for her, never seeking thanks or recognition.

Stepping out of the hospital, Amelia weighed whether to call Wyatt and tell him that she would pay her back,but she felt the gesture felt hollow and forced.

Just then, her thoughts were cut short by the sudden buzz of her phone.

Recognition of the incoming number chilled her mood in an instant, but habit had her pressing the answer button.

On the other end of the line, a man spoke, his tone brooking no argument. "You need to come home today."

Even though they were on the phone, Amelia could sense Ricky's dissatisfaction toward her.

Little hope remained in her heart for any warmth from her father, but the ache of detecting his dislike toward her still lingered.

She kept silent, prompting Ricky's irritation to spike. "Amelia, did you hear me?" he snapped.

Choosing her words carefully, she replied, "What's it about?"

Memories of old wounds kept her from calling him "Dad."

Blood ties were hard to ignore, though. No matter how she tried, she couldn't completely cut him off.Besides, her late mother's things were still in the Flynn family's house.

As usual, Ricky kept his reasons hidden, repeating only that she must return home, even resorting to threats.

Fed up, Amelia finally agreed, hanging up with a blank expression.

She wondered why her father, who hadn't reached out to her in a long time, suddenly insisted on seeing her now.