Chapter 883

“I knew you’d say that,” Tate Vargas couldn’t help but chuckle. “But I’ve already made up my mind. There’s no curing this, so I might as well stop going back and forth to the hospital. You don’t need to talk me out of it.”
Emily Blair pulled her hands into her sleeves, her voice barely above a whisper. “If I’d known sooner, I would have come to see you.”
Tate looked at her with the same gentle, forgiving gaze he’d always had. “It’s alright, Emily. This is on me—I didn’t tell you. The only reason I called you over was because I needed a favor.”
He gave an awkward smile. “Really, I should be the one feeling embarrassed. I haven’t reached out in ages, and the first thing I do is ask for your help.”
Emily hurried to reassure him. “Please, don’t say that. You can always ask me for help, anytime. You’ve done so much for me I owe you.”
Tate smiled, but suddenly his face tightened in pain. He clutched his chest, coughing so violently it seemed like his lungs might give out.
“Professor!”
Emily jumped to her feet in alarm, but Tate forced himself to get it under control, raising a shaky hand to motion her back down. “I’m alright, I’m alright. No need to “worry, just sit.”
She watched him anxiously, only sitting when she was sure he was steady. “Tell me what you need, Professor. Whatever it is, I’ll help.”
Tate nodded. “Open the top drawer and look at the photograph inside.”
Emily did as he said, pulling out an old, yellowed photo.
It was clearly taken years ago. The background showed a hospital room. A young woman in a hospital gown sat propped up in bed, the blanket tucked under her waist. She gazed down, eyes shining with tears, at a tightly-swaddled newborn in her arms.
Emily studied the photo. “Professor, what is this?”
Tate’s voice was frail, each word measured and slow. “More than twenty years ago, I divorced my first wife. She moved overseas. Melisa was still in high school back then-there was no one to look after her, so I hired a nanny. Her name was Adelaide George. One night, something happened between us. She got pregnant.” Emily’s eyes widened at the admission.
Tate frowned, regret etched deep on his face. “I wanted to take responsibility, but at that time I’d just divorced, and Melisa was having a hard time. There was no way she’d accept a new stepmother so soon. So I arranged for Adelaide to stay at a care facility for a while, thinking I’d bring her home when things settled down.”
He shook his head. “But at some point, Adelaide left the facility. I thought maybe she just didn’t want to stay with me, and after that… I never found her again. Recently, after I was diagnosed with leukemia, I started worrying. What if my child is out there suffering? So I hired someone to look into it. They found the hospital where Adelaide gave birth, and this photo. The nurses there told me she left the baby at an orphanage not long after delivery, and then disappeared.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “That orphanage closed down twenty years ago. No one knows where the children ended up. I can’t find my child. All I know is that it was a girl.”
Emily could see now why Tate had called her.
He coughed again, more weakly this time, his eyes pleading. “Emily, I don’t have much time left. Maybe I’ll never find her, but you have connections-I know you do. I’m begging you, help me find that child. Tell her… I’ve left her a little inheritance. It’s not much, but it’s enough that she can live out her days in peace.”
Emily set the photo aside and gently laid her hand on Tate’s chest, helping him calm his ragged breathing.