The Miracle of You

Camille snatched her wrist away from his grasp and stormed into the elevator, not even waiting for him to enter.

Christian watched blankly as the doors closed, and then she was out of his sight.

The sound of the dinging elevator rang in his ears for a few seconds until he realized that he was just standing there like a fool.

When he returned to their home later on, Camille had already locked herself inside her bedroom and refused to come out, not even to eat dinner. Even Harrietta tried to deliver a tray to her room, but Camille did not even acknowledge her or open the door.

Christian went to his room and thought about what had happened. Of course, there had been times before when her patience had finally reached its limit and she had lashed out at him. Things like that weren’t new to him.

Usually, he would correct her behavior and either threaten her not to do it again or tease her and make her even angrier.

But this time, it seemed different. That pained look in her eyes kept nagging at him even as he prepared to go to sleep. In fact, it bothered him so much that he could no longer feel the tiredness in his limbs. His mind was awake and alert, and he knew that he couldn’t sleep now.

It was then that he realized that he needed to find out what was bothering Camille in order to be able to rest and relax completely.

‘Okay. Let’s see what you’re hiding,’ he thought to himself as he took out his cell phone and started making some calls.

There were only a few things in this world that could rattle Camille Parker like that, so Christian already had an inkling of what – or rather, who – might be involved.

One hour later, he finally got his answer.

A slow grin spread across his face.

“So this is what you’ve been worrying about since earlier,” he murmured with satisfaction. “Good. Very good.”

He let out a sinister chuckle.

“Looks like I can use this to my advantage.”

***

Camille spent the next few days in a frenzy.

Whenever she wasn’t busy with the collaboration project and her secretarial duties, she did more and more research on her father’s disease. She scoured the internet for medical journals and articles that were even remotely related to the disease.

After hours of research and desperate calls to Dr. Colmen’s secretary, only to have her number blacklisted, she finally came to the conclusion that there was really nothing she could do. Even her brothers had no luck.

Dr. Colmen was their only hope. The longer they delayed treatment, the worse Luther’s condition would get.

Camille received constant updates on her father from Paul and Ben. Luther’s current condition was indeed deteriorating. He now needed an oxygen mask and was beginning to get infections. There was nothing the doctors could do about it except try to slow the progression somehow.

But even then, Luther continued to suffer. The painkillers didn’t work sometimes, so he could barely sleep at night.

Camille heard from her brothers that Emilia stayed by Luther’s side all the time, never leaving him for even a second. She held his hand when he was in agony and talked to him soothingly every night, trying to distract him from the pain.

That alone was heartbreaking to hear.

“What about the hotel?” Camille asked Paul on the phone. “What’s going on over there?”

“Ben and I are doing our best to replace them and manage our own work as well,” Paul explained tiredly. “It’s been so hectic.”

“Isn’t there anything I can do to help?” she whispered. She had never felt so useless at this moment.

Paul’s voice was gentle. “You’ve done everything that you can, sis. We’re doing our best, too. If Papa and Mama knew what you’ve been doing to help them-”

“No,” Camille said instantly. “Don’t tell them.”

“But-”

“Please, Paul. You promised me. I don’t want them to know. I’m not… ready yet.”

“All right. I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“Still… sis, have you been eating and sleeping well? Take care of your health too, okay?”

“I know. I’m fine. Worry more about Papa. He’s doing much worse than I am.” She took a deep breath and asked the dreaded words. “He’s… not suffering too much, is he? How much longer does he…?”

“Don’t worry.” Paul’s tone was firm. “There’s still time. We’ll find a way. I’m sure that we can find one, sis.”

“I… I hope so.”

Camille ended the call and sighed heavily, feeling as if her soul had been drained from her body.

Her phone calls with Paul often left her feeling dejected and useless. She felt like she wasn’t contributing at all.

She had promised to help find a way, but there didn’t seem to be any other solution no matter how much she researched. She wasn’t a medical surgeon, so she didn’t even dream of trying to cure the disease herself. No, that was far too much. That field was way out of her league.

Camille exhaled and tried to calm down, but it was too much just to think of her father lying helplessly in bed, suffering in his physical torment.

Why was the world so cruel? Why did it have to be like this?

It was fine if she was the only one to suffer, but why did her family have to suffer as well?

She began to feel like she was carrying a curse and that she was inflicting it on the people she loved the most.

At this moment, she wanted nothing more than to vent, to confide in someone about her feelings that felt like they were about to explode.

But she had no friends here. She was always busy with work, and she didn’t want to involve anyone else in her affairs. If she developed a close friendship with someone, especially if it was an employee of this company, there was a risk that Christian would use it to his advantage to exploit more of her ‘weaknesses’.

She was effectively trapped in the man’s little birdcage with no way out.

At that moment, a fleeting thought crossed her mind.

But then she quickly shook it away.

No.

Michael McGregor was out of the question.

She couldn’t possibly confide in him, for obvious reasons.

Camille took a deep breath and rested her head on the desk, closing her eyes. She felt so tired. The day wasn’t even over yet and she already felt so drained.

‘Just for a few minutes,’ she thought. ‘I’ll just rest my eyes for a while.’Content (C) Nôv/elDra/ma.Org.

Unbeknownst to her, someone was watching her from a distance.

As her breathing deepened, the figure slowly approached. She was already fast asleep, and the tired lines on her face smoothed out, making her look more peaceful than usual.

The figure stood in front of the desk and stared at her for a long time.