Chapter 6: It's Better Not to Give False Hope

"An investment project? Elisa frowned, barely listening to Koby's words. If he really had any business acumen, her grandfather wouldn't have left the Powell Group to her.

"Just send the money over if you know about it, I need it urgently now."

Elisa said, "I can give you money, but you have to send me the information about the investment project for me to review first."

What father has ever been controlled like this by his daughter? Koby felt humiliated. He cursed Elisa over the phone, saying she was trash and he should have aborted her early on. After saying some harsh words, he tried to gain sympathy.

A slap followed by a candy, Elisa was already numb to these tactics. After listening, she simply replied blandly, "Anything else to say? I'm busy here, I'll hang up if there's nothing else."

"Don't hang up, don't hang up!" Koby quickly stopped her, afraid she would change her mind and he would lose the money.

After hanging up, Elisa waited by her computer. Soon, Koby sent over the documents. She forwarded them to her assistant to print out a copy and bring in, and to help make her a cup of coffee at the same time.

The documents were delivered. Elisa lowered her eyes to read them. Only when a cup of hot coffee was placed on her desk did she stop. The coffee emitted a rich aroma. Elisa freed a hand to pick it up and took a sip. The coffee was high-quality Blue Mountain. The aftertaste was fragrant, yet still too bitter.

She had a sweet tooth and disliked bitter tastes. As someone who used to need a sugar cube even when taking medicine, she now had to rely on this bitter coffee to stay alert.

Elisa took a sip and put it down, continuing to focus on the documents.

Koby was investing in real estate. There were plans, certificates, and the team also seemed reliable. Not even halfway through, Koby called to hurry her for the money.

Her assistant knocked and entered as Elisa was on the phone. She glanced over to signal the assistant to speak.

The assistant said, "Ms. Powell, Dr. Baker is here to see you downstairs."

Why was Micah here? Elisa was surprised and no longer had time to deal with Koby. She hurriedly said "I see" and promptly hung up the call.

"Go bring him up, and get someone to make a cup of tea and bring it in."

In the time her assistant went to get Micah, Elisa transferred 2 million to Koby's account.

Elisa stared at her phone until the screen went dark, but didn't get a word of thanks from her father. She laughed self-deprecatingly and finally threw the phone on her desk.

"Ms. Powell, Dr. Baker is here."

The office door was open. Seeing Micah come in, she waved at her assistant to leave.

"Have a seat," Elisa said, standing up. Her office was large with a dedicated guest area by the floor-to-ceiling windows. She led Micah over to the sofa.

Micah smelled a strong aroma of coffee as soon as he entered. Following it, he saw the half-finished cup on the desk. He frowned, "You're still drinking coffee?"

"I can't?" Elisa pushed the tea on the coffee table toward him and casually asked, "Did you come today for something?"

Micah sat down, "Looks like you've completely forgotten what I told you last night."

Elisa's outstretched hand froze. She quietly sat back on the sofa, head lowered, looking like a child who had done something wrong.

"No matter what, you have to come to the hospital with me today."

Elisa didn't look at Micah, but at the withered plant next to her. She moved her lips, "Go do what?"

"A full examination, determine a treatment plan, get admitted."

Micah scrutinized Elisa carefully. He hadn't seen her for just a month, yet she had become so thin. He couldn't imagine how someone who used to be afraid of getting injections when sick could now endure the agony of advanced stomach cancer.

Elisa shook her head. The strands of hair on her forehead obscured the emotions in her eyes. "Micah, my illness is like this plant. The roots are already rotten. No treatment can cure it."

"Ellie, how do you know it can't be cured if you don't even try? You can work tirelessly, spend all your effort pleasing a man who doesn't love you for four years, yet why won't you spend a little time on your health?" Micah felt Elisa didn't value herself enough. She was only twenty-four.

She should be healthy, happy, vibrant, enjoying the best life has to offer, not resigned to a dull marriage, imprisoning herself in work, and certainly not enduring the torment of cancer.

Micah went to Elisa's side and stroked her head like he used to, "Medicine is advanced nowadays. As long as you don't give up and properly undergo treatment and surgery, there's..." He stopped mid-sentence, unable to continue, because he saw Elisa's eyes redden.

Elisa caressed the withered leaves with her right hand and murmured, "Then tell me, how high are the chances of success for the surgery? 50%? 20%? Or 0.1%?"

Micah pressed his lips together tightly, not making a sound.

"Forget it." Elisa pulled the cracked corners of her mouth into a laugh. "You better not say anymore. That little bit of hope is better not given."

She understood Micah's meaning. Who doesn't want to live? To have a healthy body? But she had never heard of anyone with late-stage stomach cancer surviving.

With a flick of her right hand, the withered leaf crumbled in Elisa's grasp, falling from her fingers to the ground.