Escape from Mr. Whitman (Emma and Theodore) novel Chapter 286

Theodore lunged toward Larson, trying to take his grandmother from his arms. “Let me do it. Put her in my car!” he demanded.

But Larson ignored him completely. Clutching the frail old woman, Larson hurried past Theodore—nearly breaking into a run—as he headed straight for his own car.

“Emma…” Theodore called out, trying to catch Emma’s eye, but she didn’t even glance his way.

In the distance, sirens wailed—police cars arrived on the scene.

Latham quickly stepped up to explain to the officers. “The elderly lady’s in critical condition. Let these two take her to the hospital right away. I’ve recorded everything on video inside—I’ll come with you to the station. And that monster who calls himself her son? He’s in there.”

Theodore stood just outside the warehouse, torn. Part of him wanted to follow Emma to the hospital; the other part burned with rage at the sight of Julian, craving a fight. He hesitated, glancing between them, but soon realized everyone else was already on the move. No one paid him any mind.

He felt like an extra in his own life—a bystander everyone had forgotten.

The memory of his grandmother’s frail, broken figure pierced his heart. Seeing Emma and Larson drive off with her, Theodore snapped back to action, jumping into his own car and speeding after them toward the hospital.

By the time Emma and Larson reached the ER with the old woman, the entire emergency room came to a stunned halt. Nurses and patients alike stared, shocked at her condition and the state she was in.

The medical team rushed her into the trauma bay, and Emma and Larson were left in the waiting area.

After days of relentless anxiety and sleepless nights, Emma finally sank into a chair. She felt completely hollowed out, her strength gone, her limbs limp and useless.

Larson sat beside her, gently guiding her head onto his shoulder. “It’s over, Emmie. It’s over now…”

They’d gotten her out. But what would happen next? Until the doctors returned, her grandmother’s fate was still uncertain. Emma’s heart twisted in her chest—she couldn’t relax, not yet.

Theodore arrived just in time to see Emma resting against Larson’s shoulder. His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to keep his temper. He walked over and spoke quietly, “Emmie, how’s your grandma?”

Emma couldn’t even muster the energy to answer.

Larson didn’t acknowledge Theodore at all. He just kept patting Emma’s back, soothing her as if she were a child fighting sleep.

Theodore sat down on Emma’s other side and gently took her hand in his own.

He understood too well what she was feeling. He remembered when his own grandmother had been gravely ill—how he’d shut everyone out, lost in his own helplessness.

Before either could escalate, the doors to the trauma bay swung open.

The doctor strode out, pushing Emma’s grandmother on a gurney, an IV trailing beside her. The old woman was unconscious, her face ashen.

Emma’s voice trembled as she asked, “Doctor, how is she?”

The doctor’s face darkened with anger. “This is inhuman! Who would do such a thing? She’s been treated worse than an animal—who’s responsible?”

Emma couldn’t answer. To say it was her own father filled her with shame.

The doctor didn’t press for details, but his outrage lingered as he finally explained, “Her body is extremely weak—she’s on the edge of total organ failure. If you’d come even a day later, there would’ve been nothing we could do.”

Emma’s heart clenched at the words “organ failure.” Her knees nearly buckled.

Larson caught her, steadying her as they followed the gurney to the hospital room.

When it was time to transfer her grandmother from the ER bed to a regular hospital bed, it was Larson who carefully lifted her. She felt weightless in his arms, as fragile as a piece of paper.