Chapter 195
Sylvia looked at the guy lying there, hit by the car. Her heart was pounding with worry, but before she even know it, tears started streaming down her face. Not from fear–relief. That was her brother, Roman Sullivan.
He was nineteen, wore a crisp white shirt, had that sharp, almost too cool look about him.
But right now, he was just lying there on the ground, completely still. There was a faint grimace on his face, and a nasty bruise had already started to form on his forehead.
Sylvia never expected to run into Roman in Silverton after all these years. She decided to stop chasing Joanna–Byron and his men were already on her tail, so there was no way Joanna could escape.
Using all her strength, Sylvia hauled Roman into the car and sped toward the hospital.
As Sylvia stood at the emergency room door, waves of memories came crashing over her. Actually, Roman wasn’t related to her by blood.
She had been adopted by their grandfather as a child, while Roman was his biological grandson and grew up with him in the countryside.
But their grandfather doted on Sylvia far more than on Roman. This favoritism had always rankled Roman–he felt their grandfather was excessively partial to Sylvia. At 16, in a fit of anger, he ran away from home and returned to his parents in another city.
Just as Sylvia was lost in thought, the doctor came out of the emergency room and nodded at her. “You can go in now.”
Roman had only suffered a mild concussion and quickly regained consciousness.
Sylvia rushed anxiously into the ward. “Roman, how are you feeling?” she asked.
Roman opened his eyes. When he saw Sylvia, a flicker of surprise flashed in his eyes, but his face quickly turned icy. “What are you doing here?”
“I saw you crash on the road, so I brought you to the hospital.” As Sylvia looked at Roman, her gaze softened with care. They didn’t share blood, but to her, he was still her little brother.
She thought, ‘He is Grandpa’s actual grandson. That is more than enough.’
“Roman, how have you been these years?” Sylvia asked anxiously! “You know, before Grandpa passed away, you were his biggest concern.”
Roman’s face twitched momentarily, a flash of complex emotions in his eyes, but he quickly turned cold again. “Don’t bring him up. He wasn’t my grandfather–never was–he was only yours.”
Sylvia’s eyes welled with a tinge of sadness. Deep down, she knew Roman still cherished their grandfather’s memory.
Ever since he passed away, she’d often spot Roman making trips alone to visit his grave–sometimes even catching him weeping there. But Roman simply didn’t want her to know just how much he missed their grandfather.
Sylvia drew a quiet breath. No matter how Roman treats me, I have to take care of him. It was what Grandpa had wanted,‘ she told herself.
She owed their grandfather everything–she’d been a foster kid, after all, and he took her in. She wasn’t going to let him down.
Just then, Roman’s parents called. “Roman, why aren’t you home yet? The pigs are in bad shape. We need your help, now!”
Roman jumped off the hospital bed and ran straight for the door. Halfway there, he paused, pulled out his wallet, and tossed every dollar he had–just a hundred bucks–onto the bed. “For the hospital bill,” he muttered. “Now we’re even.”
Sylvia watched Roman’s receding figure. Frowning, she picked up the money from the bed and hurried after him. Roman hailed a ride via his phone and left, while Sylvia tailed him in her own car.
She quickly made a call and soon got an update on Roman in Silverton. He was now a junior at a private university.
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It turned out he and his parents had only moved to Silverton a few years ago which explained why Sylvia hadn’t been able to reach him all this time.
His parents owned a pig farm there, raising about a hundred pigs, so the family was fairly well–off.
Sylvia tailed Roman’s car all the way to the industrial park. Up ahead stood the barn that housed his parents‘ pig farm. She instinctively wanted to get out of the car and follow him in, but hesitated, recalling Roman’s attitude toward her.
Quickly, she applied makeup, transforming her face back into that deliberately hideous disguise with garish, mismatched colors. Waiting until the security guard was distracted, Sylvia slipped unnoticed into the compound.
Inside the pig farm, Roman and his parents anxiously watched as one pig after another lay listlessly in their pens. The place reeked of a foul stench, and the sickly pigs occasionally let out weak, feeble grunts.
“Roman, do you know any classmates whose families run pig farms? What’s going on with our pigs? We’ve had vet after vet look at them, but nothing’s worked.” Roman’s mom, Sonia Sullivan, looked frazzled.
She was in her fifties, with deep lines across her face and worry clouding her eyes.
His dad, Manuel Sullivan, was a big guy with a booming voice. “You’ve been to college, Roman. You spend all that time online–can’t you track down someone from the state capital who knows what they’re doing?”
Roman shook his head. “Even if we wanted to get a vet from outside, we can’t even cover the travel expenses. Most of my classmates come from business families–none of them are in pig farming. Trust me, I’ve already asked around.”
Sonia was just about to speak when she instinctively glanced up at the entrance and froze in surprise. “Who are you?”
Sylvia stepped inside, her face completely transformed by makeup–so much so that even Roman didn’t recognize her. “I’m here to save your pigs,” Sylvia said coolly. She had already overheard their conversation moments before.
Roman asked, puzzled, “Are you a vet?”
Sylvia forced a wry smile. “No.”
Roman’s face darkened. “Then what are you doing here? Leave. Now.” He was naturally aloof, and Sylvia’s deliberately garish makeup only made him
more averse to her.
Just as Roman was about to kick her off the property, Sylvia cut in, “Look, I’m not a vet, but I know how to save your pigs.”
Fixing the issue wasn’t just about sick pigs. They needed to monitor temperature, check for viruses, test the feed–every piece of the puzzle. And she was Shadow, one of the top Al engineers around. Her tech could do all of that, no problem.
Sonia, already on edge, didn’t want to hear it. “Roman, get her out of here!” If those pigs died, the whole farm would go under. They’d invested over 300 thousand dollars–livestock, buildings, everything.
Just as Sylvia was at a loss for words, Manuel hesitated, raising a hand. “Wait,” he said. “How exactly do you plan to save our pigs?”
