Catherine Callahan stood up, burning with rage, and glared coldly. "Jean Grant! Say one more word, and see if I don’t slap you senseless!"

Jean Grant wasn’t afraid of her. She sneered back, "Slap me senseless? Go on, try it."

Seeing the two of them like this, Mrs. Grant was furious and shouted, "That’s enough! Jean, don’t you have something to do? Go do it."

Jean Grant knew her mother was defending Catherine Callahan, and in a fit of anger, she blurted out, "The way I see it, she’s your real daughter, and I’m the one who was adopted!"

With that, Jean Grant left. Mrs. Grant didn’t stop her.

Instead, she turned to Catherine Callahan. "Jean is a few years younger than you, and she has a fiery temper. You should be the bigger person."

Catherine Callahan’s gloomy mood persisted. She sat down, holding the child. "I’m supposed to be the bigger person for her, but who’s going to be the bigger person for me?"

Mrs. Grant was choked up by her words, not knowing what to say.

The child in her arms started wailing. Catherine Callahan snapped irritably, "All you ever do is cry! Cry, cry, cry! You might as well just die!"

Mrs. Grant took the child from her, cradling and cooing at her. "Godmother knows you’re in a bad mood, but there’s no need to take it out on the child."

Catherine Callahan sat there limply, completely drained of strength.

"Godmother, what am I going to do?"

Mrs. Grant had no choice but to be honest. "I don’t think it’s possible between you and Quentin anymore. It’s been so long, Catherine. Why don’t you look at other men? There are plenty of good men out there. Since you know it’s impossible, don’t force it."

Catherine Callahan was stubborn. "I won’t change my mind. Even if I can’t marry him in this lifetime, I’ll stay single forever."

Seeing how obstinate she was, Mrs. Grant didn’t say anything more.

"Go out and get some fresh air. I’ll watch the baby."

Catherine Callahan got up and paced back and forth in the courtyard.

She sat on a bench by the small lake in the Grant Residence’s courtyard, her spirits sinking to their lowest as she stared at the clear blue water.

Just then, someone sat down beside her.

She turned her head and met his eyes.

It was Quentin’s cousin, Martin Grant.

"Feeling down?"

"Yeah."

He had a delicate, androgynous beauty, having inherited the Grant family’s handsome genes.

"What’s the point of being upset? You could worry yourself to death and no one would care. Why bother? Why not just try to be happy?"

Catherine Callahan leaned back against the bench. "I saw in the news, you broke up with your model girlfriend?"

"It was an amicable split. That’s just how it is between men and women," he said leisurely. "Having known you for so long, I find you rather pathetic."

Catherine Callahan hated it most when people used the word ’pathetic’ to describe her, because it hit a raw nerve.

"I am not pathetic."

Martin Grant smiled. "How are you not pathetic? You’ve liked my cousin for so long, and he doesn’t give you the time of day. When you gave birth, he only went to the hospital to glance at the baby, and he hasn’t come to see you or the child since, has he? What is it you love about him, a man so heartless?"

Catherine Callahan looked down. "I don’t know what I love about him either. Maybe it’s just that I can’t accept it. I can’t accept that I’ve failed like this."

A glint flashed in Martin Grant’s eyes, and his voice dropped. "Do you resent him?"

"Of course I do."

"If it were me, I’d resent him too. To love him for so long, only for his heart to change and love another woman."

Hearing this, Catherine Callahan said, "But what can resentment change? He still doesn’t want me."

"Give up. I think you’re being too foolish."

Just as Catherine Callahan was about to say something, a maid came running over in a panic. "Miss Callahan, the baby’s had a relapse!"

Catherine Callahan immediately shot up and ran back to the living room, with Martin Grant following right behind her.

Mrs. Grant was just coming out of the living room door, holding the baby. When she saw Catherine, she said, "Hurry, we need to get to the hospital! I think the baby is having trouble breathing."

Martin Grant drove them, rushing immediately to the General Hospital.

After assessing the situation, the doctors immediately assembled a team of specialists to perform surgery.

Catherine Callahan, Mrs. Grant, and Martin Grant waited outside the operating room. Mrs. Grant immediately called Quentin Grant, ordering him to come to the hospital.

Twenty minutes later, he arrived.

He remained unmoved, even watching Catherine Callahan’s heart-wrenching sobs.

"What’s the situation?"

Mrs. Grant shook her head. "We don’t know." 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

Catherine looked at him through her tears. "Quentin, the baby is in this state, and you still won’t acknowledge her. Whenever she’s home, she always says she wants to see her daddy, but you never come back. If something happens to her during this surgery, I won’t be able to go on living."

Quentin Grant said coldly, "If you can’t go on living, then just die. If you want to die, find a quiet place and end it yourself."

Catherine Callahan’s face turned a few shades paler.

Mrs. Grant frowned. "Quentin, what are you saying?"

"The truth. I’m very busy. The only reason I came here is out of respect for you, Mrs. Grant. Don’t expect me to show any fatherly love. This spawn isn’t worthy of it."

His heartlessness was clear. He would absolutely never marry her for this child. Never.

The operating room door opened without warning. A doctor in a white coat walked out, his expression grave.

"There was an unexpected complication during the surgery. Her lungs were already infected—it looks like it’s been for quite some time. She’s having extreme difficulty breathing and is being kept on oxygen. There will be blood loss during the operation, so it would be best for the biological parents to donate blood beforehand in case it’s needed."

Catherine Callahan quickly said, "Take my blood. I’m type A."

The doctor nodded. "We can, but... is the father type B?"

Although Quentin Grant didn’t want to acknowledge paternity, he still answered, "No, I’m type O."

The doctor was stunned. "Are you the child’s biological parents?"

Catherine Callahan’s palms began to sweat. "Doctor, don’t talk nonsense."

The doctor looked her up and down. "It’s not nonsense, it’s based on medical science. If the parents’ blood types are A and O, the child’s blood type can be A or O, but it can absolutely not be type AB or type B. As it happens, the child’s blood type is B."

Mrs. Grant’s face instantly turned ashen. "Doctor, are you saying... this child isn’t my son’s?"

A knot of panic tightened in Catherine Callahan’s chest. "How could she not be? She is Quentin’s child!"

Mrs. Grant’s expression hardened. "I wasn’t asking you. Be quiet."

Catherine Callahan’s nerves tensed. Her godmother had never spoken to her like that before.

The doctor stated, "If this young lady is indeed type A, and this gentleman is indeed type O, and they are truly the child’s parents, then it’s safe to say one of them is not the biological parent, because the child’s blood type is, without a doubt, B."

Mrs. Grant took a step back. She had been by Catherine Callahan’s side when she gave birth. She had seen the child come out of Catherine Callahan’s body with her own eyes. The only explanation was that the child was not Quentin’s.

She clenched her fists tightly and said to the doctor, "Then get the blood from the blood bank."

"Understood."

The doctor left.

Quentin Grant didn’t know whether to feel happy or pathetic. He knew that nothing had happened between him and Catherine that night; the child wasn’t his. But he also knew that if it weren’t for this whole affair, Nora might not have left him so decisively.