No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1592

At the hospital, after a frantic round of emergency treatment, Farrah was temporarily pulled out of danger. However, the entire left side of her body was paralyzed. Her mouth drooped, her speech was slurred, and she had lost control of her bodily functions. The doctor grimly informed Vanessa that these were typical complications following a severe stroke—hemiplegia.

The diagnosis hit Vanessa like a sledgehammer, making the room spin. She could barely stay on her feet.

Her life was already a disaster. If she had to drag along a bedridden mother who required round-the-clock care, it would be nothing short of a living hell.

She couldn't even fathom how she was going to survive.

The two middle-aged women who had been playing card with her mother exchanged uncomfortable glances, unsure of what to say, and quickly made their excuses to leave.

"Miss Shannon, please head to billing to take care of the deposit. Your mother will need to be admitted for ongoing treatment."

Money! It always came back to money.

Vanessa closed her eyes, fighting the lump in her throat. She gritted her teeth. She did have a lump sum of cash in her account, but that was supposed to be her nest egg for her own treatments. Now, it had to go toward her mother's hospitalization.

The subsequent rehabilitation and nursing care would be an absolute bottomless pit.

Back in the hospital room, Farrah's speech was gone, but her eyes burned with a desperate will to live. She used her good hand to weakly tug at Vanessa's sleeve. Her gaze was wide with fear and pleading. A harsh, raspy sound clawed its way out of her throat as she struggled to form words, managing only a few unintelligible syllables.

Tears tracked down her drooping face. Just an hour ago, she had been tossing tiles at the card table like she owned the place. Yesterday, she had even gotten a stylish new haircut. At barely fifty years old, she never imagined she would lose her mobility in an instant.

Regret was entirely useless now.

Farrah knew her daughter all too well. Vanessa was a cold, calculating woman. Right now, Farrah could see the unmistakable disgust, irritation, and absolute revulsion in her daughter's eyes.

If it weren't for the thin thread of blood tying them together, Vanessa probably would have abandoned her to rot on the spot.

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