No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 689

“Grandpa Smith,” Evelyn whispered, then quickly ducked behind her father, as if a little wary of the old man.

Smith immediately put on his warmest smile. “Don’t worry, Evelyn, Grandpa Smith is just here to chat with your mom.”

He turned to Ian. “Mr. Goodwin, we’ve received the research funding. Thank you so much for your support.”

Ian gave a brief nod. “If anything comes up, don’t hesitate to reach out.”

“Of course!” Smith replied, then addressed Eleanor, “Dr. Sutton, I brought some new test reports. Could I ask you to take a look when you have a moment?”

Just then, Ian bent down to Evelyn. “How about we go outside and build a snowman?”

Evelyn’s face lit up as she took his hand. “Mom, Dad promised to build a snowman with me.”

“Go have fun!” Eleanor smiled at her daughter, ushering her out, though she didn’t have time to join them herself. Guilt tugged at her—she wished she could be there, but her work kept her away far too often.

That’s why, whenever Ian spent time with Evelyn, Eleanor never objected.

Under the soft glow of the lamp, Smith spread out a stack of reports. “These are the latest results from our genetic sequencing,” he explained, pointing to a chart. “There’s a rare mutation on the X chromosome that’s causing the patient’s abnormal blood cell production.”

Eleanor scanned the report. “Did the symptoms come on suddenly?”

“Yes, it was an acute onset. Fortunately, about a year later the patient found a compatible donor and received a timely stem cell transplant. Her condition is stable now. What I’d like, Dr. Sutton, is your analysis of this gene sequence—specifically, the risk of inheritance.”

Eleanor examined the genetic markers in detail.

Smith adjusted his glasses. “At the moment, the patient’s family is deeply concerned about the possibility of this mutation being passed on, especially to her daughter and granddaughter.”

“Do either of them show any symptoms?” Eleanor asked.

“So far, none of the women in her family have shown signs, but there’s no guarantee. Globally, we’ve only identified one stem cell donor whose genetic sequence can counteract the mutation.”

Smith gave Eleanor a thoughtful look. “Dr. Sutton, do you see any better treatment options?”

Eleanor fell silent, recalling a theory her father had jotted down in an old notebook. Studying the data, she said, “From this sequencing, the mutation is rare but not irreversible. We might try gene editing to repair the stem cells in vitro, then reintroduce them to the patient.”

Smith’s eyes lit up. “That’s quite a bold idea. Although, as you know, gene editing in clinical practice still carries significant risks—”

Eleanor nodded. “Absolutely. For now, it’s just a theory. Making it a reality would be a huge challenge.”

Smith pushed his glasses up again. “Actually, we do have other methods in mind, but the main issue is that the current stem cell donor isn’t willing to participate in further testing.”

“Why not?” Eleanor frowned.

“The donor’s own health is complicated. She’s worried about the unknown risks of gene editing.”

Smith quickly added, “The patient’s family is trying to persuade her, and we’ve promised to minimize any risks if an experiment goes forward.”

“Oh, by the way, Doctor, how did you meet my daughter?” Eleanor asked, curiosity in her voice.

“Uncle, I want to visit Mom,” Vivian said quietly.

“Of course, sweetheart. I’ll take you.”

“Uncle, can we go skiing in Drexford too?” Vivian tilted her head, eyes full of hope.

Mrs. Vaughn’s heart ached for her granddaughter. She turned to Xavier. “I heard Eleanor took Evelyn there. Vivian’s been wanting to go ever since. Do you think—?”

Xavier thought for a moment, then looked at his niece. “You really want to go?”

“I do!” Vivian nodded emphatically.

“All right. We’ll visit your mom first, then fly to Drexford for some skiing.”

“Thank you, Uncle!” Vivian beamed, perfectly well-behaved.

Mrs. Vaughn watched her son, secretly hoping he and Eleanor would spark something overseas. Lately, Xavier seemed a little down.

She’d tried probing him for information more than once, but he wouldn’t say a word. The fire he’d once had for pursuing Eleanor seemed all but gone.

Once Vivian left to play, Mrs. Vaughn turned serious. “Xavier, be honest with me—did Eleanor turn you down?”

Xavier paused, then managed a laugh. “Mom, what are you talking about? I haven’t even confessed to her yet. How could she have rejected me?”