No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 933

The Goodwin house, though a little quiet, was as grand and immaculate as ever, kept spotless by the staff.

While Evelyn went off to play, Magdalen and Eleanor sat on the sofa, sipping tea.

"I wanted to go see Gina, but Ian told me not to make the trip," Magdalen said with a sigh. "What kind of illness is it, anyway? She's been gone for so long." It was clear she was still being kept in the dark.

"Grandma, try not to worry too much," Eleanor soothed. "Modern medicine is very advanced. Gina will be okay."

Magdalen looked at Eleanor and smiled. "Well, I have a genius scientist sitting right in front of me, so I suppose I shouldn't worry. I just wish this house had a bit more life in it." She then asked, "What have you been busy with lately? Are you still at the same lab?"

"Yes, I am," Eleanor replied, instinctively protecting the old woman from the truth. At her age, she didn't need any more shocks.

"You young people are all so busy. It must be tough for Ian, managing such a large company. If only his father hadn't passed away so young," Magdalen lamented, her thoughts turning to her son, who had died before he was fifty.

To be precise, Ian's father had been forty-five when he died. He had passed away in his prime.

On the day he died, Eleanor had been at the hospital. Her father, as his lead physician, had been working around the clock, holding late-night meetings with the medical team. In the end, they couldn't save him.

Eleanor's hand tightened around her teacup as a memory, long buried, resurfaced. That day, she had overheard nurses in the elevator saying the patient in room nine hadn't made it through the morning resuscitation. She had bolted out of the elevator and sprinted to the inpatient wing, arriving to find Ian kneeling outside the hospital room while her father and the other specialists stood by in somber silence.

"Ellie, what's wrong?" Magdalen's voice pulled Eleanor back to the present.

"Ian never told you?" the old woman asked, clearly having come to terms with it long ago.

Eleanor was utterly stunned, her heart pounding as if struck by a heavy blow. She had no idea. She remembered how much pressure her father had been under, how he had lost weight and seemed to hit a wall in his research. Had the breakthrough come from the donation of Ian's father's body?

"That boy has always been strong-willed, even as a child. I couldn't have made a decision like that, but he had the strength to sign the papers," Magdalen sighed. "I suppose it was a contribution to medical science in the end."

Eleanor looked down at the cup in her hands, her mind reeling with a storm of complex emotions.

It was her father's idea?