?Chapter 286:


    “Grandma! Of course, I must tell Grandma!”


    Such a monumental asion—how could he not share it with N?


    Despite thete hour, the news simply couldn’t wait for dawn’s light. It wasn’t merely a matter of her potential displeasure at being left in the dark—he simply couldn’t hoard this jubtion alone!


    Thus, under the cloak of night, Eric and N departed the Flynn Mansion, bound for the private hospital where Ernest was.


    In the car, N’s tears flowed unchecked, a river of pent-up relief.


    “Grandma,” Eric murmured, his own eyes rimmed with red as he offered her a tissue. “You mustn’t weep so. I know your heart’s brimming with joy, but your health demands care too.”


    “Lecturing me now, are you?” N shot him a watery re. “Do you think I’m shedding these tears by choice? They’ve a mind of their own! Oh… my dear Ernest, awake atst! At longst!”


    N pressed a hand to her heart, her sobs rolling like thunder. “I once feared he would linger in that limbo forever… that I would meet my maker before he ever gazed upon the world again.” Eric’s chest tightened, a dull pang twisting within.


    “No, Grandma. Ernest would never abandon us so—he has proven it tonight, hasn’t he?”


    That night, Linda was absent, immersed in the filming of a nocturnal scene far from the Flynn Mansion’s embrace.


    N sighed, a heavy breathced with longing, “And of all nights for Linda to be away… how can she not be at Ernest’s side when he opens his eyes?”


    “There is no need to fret.” Eric soothed. “I’ve already spoken to her agent. The moment Linda’s scene wraps, she’ll hasten to the hospital.”


    “That will have to suffice, I suppose.”


    Within the hushed confines of the hospital room, tranquility reigned supreme. Thete hour had dimmed the primary lights, leaving only the gentle radiance of wall sconces to bathe the space in a soft glow. Eric guided N to the bedside with tender care, their movements as delicate as a whisper.


    Reclining on the hospital bed, Ernest bore the same serene visage he had worn throughout his longa—eyes shut, breaths even and unhurried.


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    “Why…” N’s voice trembled, her weathered eyes brimming with a storm of emotions as she turned to the doctor, bewilderment etched across her face.


    The doctor, sensing her unease, offered swift reassurance. “Fear not, Mrs. Flynn. He awoke earlier—now he is merely sleeping. Try taking his hand and speaking to him.”


    “Very well…”


    With a quivering hand, N reached out, her fingers curling gently around Ernest’s. The instant her lips parted to speak, tears carved glistening trails down her timeworn cheeks. She dared not lift her voice above a murmur, her wordsced with quiet sobs. “Ernest… Ernest, it’s Grandma. I’vee to see you, my sweet boy.”


    At that, the room seemed to hold its breath. Silence reigned, stillness prevailed—every gaze locked onto Ernest, as if fearful of missing the flicker of his awakening. Atst, Ernest’s eyelids trembled, and with agonizing slowness, they lifted. His eyes found N first, and then drifted to Eric standing nearby.


    “Brother,” Eric said, stepping closer to ensure he filled Ernest’s view. “It’s me, Eric. Grandma and I are here with you.”


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