The limousine pulled up to the emergency entrance of Mary's Hospital. Before the driver could fully stop, Isabelle already had her hand on the door handle.
"Thank you," she said breathlessly to Sebastian, then rushed out the moment the car stopped.
Sebastian followed at a quick pace, his longer stride easily keeping up with her as she hurried through the automatic doors.
The gloomy smell of antiseptics hit their nostrils.
Isabelle's eyes darted frantically around the lobby. "Where, which floor. Oh my god, I can't believe that I forgot to ask my mum."
She scurried to get her phone out of her pocket, but Sebastian grabbed her hand gently.
"The emergency ward is on the third floor," Sebastian said, already moving toward the elevators. He'd been to this hospital before for charity events his family sponsored.
Isabelle followed him, practically running. Her hands were shaking as she pressed the elevator button repeatedly.
"It won't come faster," Sebastian said gently, but she didn't stop.
The elevator ride up felt like an eternity. Isabelle kept fidgeting, biting her lip, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
The doors finally opened and Isabelle burst out, looking left and right desperately.
"Mom!" she called out gently.
A woman in her forties turned from where she stood outside one of the rooms. Her eyes were red and puffy, mascara slightly smudged. She looked exhausted and frightened.
Upon seeing her mother, Sarah Monroe, Sebastian realised where Isabelle's beauty had come from.
"Isabelle!" Sarah opened her arms and Isabelle ran into them, hugging her mother tightly.
"Mom, what happened? Is Dad okay? Please tell me he's okay—"
"He's stable, honey, he's stable," Sarah said, her voice thick with emotion. She stroked Isabelle's hair with trembling hands.
Then her eyes lifted and landed on Sebastian, who stood a respectful distance away.
Mrs. Monroe blinked in confusion, taking in the tall, exceptionally handsome young man, his posture straight, his presence catching her eyes.
"Who...?" she began.
"This is Sebastian, Mom. He's my classmate. He drove me here," Isabelle explained quickly, pulling back slightly but staying in her mother's arms.
"Oh." Mrs. Monroe's expression shifted to one of gratitude mixed with lingering confusion. "Thank you so much, young man."
Sebastian nodded politely. "It was no trouble, Mrs. Monroe."
Isabelle wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. "Mom, please tell me what happened. The call—you said Dad was hit by a car?"
Mrs. Monroe's face crumpled slightly, fresh tears forming. She took a shaky breath.
"We were out shopping downtown," she began, her voice wavering. "Your father wanted to get you something for your upcoming birthday. We were crossing the street and—"
Her voice broke. Isabelle gripped her mother's hands tighter.
"There was a car. It ran the red light. It was coming straight at me, and I froze, I just...I couldn't move."
Isabelle's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening in horror.
"Your father, he—" Mrs. Monroe's tears spilled over. "He pushed me out of the way. He took the hit himself. He saved my life, Isabelle."
"No," Isabelle whispered, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "No, no, no...Dad."
Mrs. Monroe pulled her daughter close again, both of them crying now.
Sebastian stood silently, his expression somber. He felt oddly intrusive witnessing this private moment of grief and fear.
"The doctors said he has a broken leg, two cracked ribs, and a concussion," Mrs. Monroe continued through her tears. "But they said he was lucky. If the impact had been different, if he'd hit his head harder..."
She couldn't finish the sentence.
Isabelle sobbed into her mother's shoulder. "Can I see him? Please, I need to see him."
"They said we can't enter the room yet," Mrs. Monroe said, glancing at the closed door behind her. "They're still monitoring him, but they said it should be soon. He's stable, honey. He's going to be okay."
The minutes stretched on.
Isabelle paced back and forth in front of the door, unable to stand still. Mrs. Monroe sat in one of the plastic chairs, her face buried in her hands.
Sebastian remained standing, quiet and present.
Then the door opened.
A nurse in blue scrubs stepped out, pulling off her latex gloves. She looked at the Monroe family with a gentle smile.
"He's awake now," she said. "You may enter. But please, only two visitors at a time, and try not to tire him out. He needs rest."
"Thank you, thank you so much," Mrs. Monroe said, standing quickly.
Isabelle didn't wait another second. She rushed past the nurse through the doorway, her mother right behind her.
The door swung shut behind them.
Sebastian stood alone in the hallway, staring at the closed door.
He could hear muffled voices inside—Isabelle's tearful "Dad!", the deeper rumble of her father's weak response, more crying.
Sebastian stood there for a moment longer, then turned and walked down the hallway.
He found the hospital's administrative office on the same floor—a small reception area with a tired-looking woman behind a desk.
"Excuse me," Sebastian said politely.
The woman looked up, and her eyes widened slightly at his appearance. "Yes? How can I help you?"
"I'm here regarding a patient who was just admitted. Monroe. Car accident victim." Sebastian kept his tone businesslike. "I need to speak with someone about the billing and payment."
The woman blinked. "Are you family?"
"A friend," Sebastian replied smoothly. "I'd like to handle the medical expenses."
"Oh." The woman's expression shifted to something more sympathetic. "Well, you'd need to speak with our billing department. But typically, for emergency admissions, we require the patient or their immediate family to—"
"I understand the protocol," Sebastian interrupted gently. "But I'd like to expedite this. The family is currently with the patient and dealing with a traumatic situation. I'd prefer they not have to worry about paperwork and costs right now."
The woman hesitated, clearly unused to this kind of request.
Sebastian pulled out his phone. "If it helps, I can have my family's attorney contact the hospital administrator directly. The Fairfax Foundation has donated to Mary's before. I'm sure we can work something out."
Recognition flickered in the woman's eyes at the name 'Fairfax.'
"Let me... let me call someone," she said quickly, picking up her phone.
Five minutes later, Sebastian was being ushered into a small office where a middle-aged man in a suit sat behind a desk. His nameplate read "David Cart - Patient Financial Services."
"Mr. Fairfax," the man said, standing to shake Sebastian's hand. "Please, sit. I understand you're inquiring about covering expenses for a Mr. Monroe?"
"That's correct." Sebastian sat down, his posture relaxed but commanding. "What's the current situation?"
Mr. Chen pulled up something on his computer. "Well, Mr. Monroe was brought in as an emergency case. He's undergone initial treatment, X-rays, CT scan, and is currently under observation. He'll need surgery for the broken leg—we're looking at inserting pins and plates. Plus continued monitoring for the concussion, pain management, physical therapy once he's stable..."
"Ballpark figure," Sebastian said.
Mr. Chen hesitated. "At minimum? With surgery, hospital stay, medications, and follow-up care... we're looking at somewhere between $50,000 to $80,000. Possibly more depending on complications or length of stay."
Sebastian didn't even blink. "I'll cover everything you've done so far. As for the follow-up care, surgery, etc. We can talk about that later."
Sebastian wasn't going to pay for things that Isabelle's father wasn't going to need. He had received the 250 years old Ginseng from the system, and he was going to use that on her father to heal him fast.
Mr. Chen looked surprised then nodded. "If that's the case, then the hosptial has it covered. You don't have to worry about it. We barely did anything today. As for the surgery, and future plans. We can speak about that when the time comes?"
Sebastian nodded. "Sounds good."
"The Fairfax family has been generous to this hospital before," Sebastian added quietly. "I'd hate for there to be complications that might affect future donations."
Mr. Chen cleared his throat. "Of course, young master."
As Sebastian walked back toward the emergency ward, he thought. 'Interesting, no quest for this.'
When he returned to the hallway outside Mr. Monroe's room, the door was still closed. He could hear quieter voices now—talking instead of crying.
Sebastian sat back down in the plastic chair to wait.
Some time later, the door was opened and Isabelle came out with an apologetic look.
"You are still here? I thought you left?"