Chapter Seven

"Adams family?" Lord Sergeant repeated the name, his voice had a hint of confusion and was fumed in fury.

The paramedic stood silent, trembling under the old man's fierce gaze.

 Lord Sergeant's mind raced, his heart was heavy as he stared at the poor boy. All he wanted at the moment was to save him.

But then again, he have not yet conducted the DNA test. 

He grunted and then turned abruptly and waved his hand, signaling the Butler.

"Take some strands of his hair," he ordered. "We'll run a DNA test to confirm if he's truly Helena's son."

Lord Sergeant's mind flooded with different ideas on how he would deal with the Adam's family, but for now, he needed to confirm that Chris truly was his grandson.

He stayed indifferent waiting for the test results to come out. 

The Butler nodded and carefully took a few strands of Chris's hair, placing them in a small plastic bag given to him by the director. 

Then he took some strands of Lord Sergeant hair for the test.

Lord Sergeant's eyes were only fixated on Chris. 

When the Butler had finished taking the samples, he walked out of the ward with two other doctors who were going to test for the DNA in the hospital's lab.

The Lord sergeant then turned towards the doctors, his voice filled with spite and hate towards the perpetrator.

"Doctor, tell me exactly what happened to this boy." 

He then looked at Chris again, wanting to believe the bruises on his body was not from abuse.

"Was he in an accident?" He asked.

The paramedic swallowed hard, fear visible in his eyes. How was he going to explain that the boy's family had treated him like trash?

His gaze was mellowed as he searched for the perfect words. "Sir, Chris wasn't injured in an accident. He was…” The paramedic pursed his lips for a moment, he stole a glance at Chris. Looking at the bruises on the boy's arms that have turned purple, he swallowed hard as tears welled in his eyes-

“He was abused." The paramedic finally let out.

The words hit Lord Sergeant like a physical blow. He felt his hands tremble with rage and his heart ache with sorrow. He clenched his fists, struggling to maintain his composure.

"Abused?" he repeated, his voice low and dangerous. 

How dare they abuse a teenager so much that he was left for dead. The fury igniting in his heart was shredding his muscles apart and causing his breath to seize. 

He found it difficult to breathe. His lips and the muscles in his face danced in anger as he glared at the doctors.

“What exactly could this child have done to deserve such ill treatment?” He thundered. 

The paramedic was speechless. He had asked himself severally on his way to the hospital but there was no answer. No one could have possibly deserve to be treated so despicably.

"Where is his father?" The Lord Sergeant yelled at them. He couldn't understand why the child's father was no where to be found.

After such a thing had happened to his child, he was not here.

“None of his family have been contacted?” His eyes wavered around, he couldn't find a single soul present outside the doctors.

A scoff escaped his lips. He pitied the child.

“How about the person who has abused him?” He yelled hoping the doctors would drag the criminal and have him kneel and beg for mercy, but for some reason they all stood there quiet.

Their lips clasped tight and it only caused the Lord Sergeant to become even furious.

The Paramedic gaze was still fixed on the ground, unable to meet Lord Sergeant's piercing gaze. "I don't know, sir. We've been unable to locate his father."

With a sudden violent motion, Lord Sergeant slammed his fist against the wall, causing a few nurses to jump. 

"His son is lying here, beaten and broken, and his father is nowhere to be found?" he roared, his voice echoing through the ward.

The doctor stammered, "I-I don't know, sir. We've tried to reach him but we have been unable to."

Tears gathered in the Lord's eyes as he wondered what kind of life Chris had been living.

How have the kid been surviving? 

He looked down at Chris again and his heart broke into million fragments. If he happens to be his son, he would never be able to forgive himself.

At that moment, the butler came running back, holding a sheet of paper. His face was pale, and tears were streaming down his cheeks. "Sir... the DNA test," he panted. "Chris is indeed your biological grandson. He is Miss Helena's son."

Lord Sergeant's world seemed to spin. He took the paper with trembling hands, his vision blurring as he read the results. Tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his cheeks.

"Helena's son," he whispered, his voice breaking. "He is indeed my grandson..."

He stumbled backwards as the news hit him. Truly the poor boy was his grandson. His eyes trailed the boy's body again.

He couldn't help the tears that trickled down his cheeks like a cascade.

How did his daughter end up with a child, and where was she?

His breath increases. He was unable to maintain his stance for a moment and the Butler quickly assisted him.

Suddenly, the sadness that had consumed him was overshadowed with happiness.

There was an exuberant amount of joy that ran through his body. 

When the Butler's gaze met that of the Lord's Sergeant, he was filled with great joy.

The past twenty years have been hell, and being so close he had witnessed it all.

It was the first time in that twenty years he have seen a smile of the Sergeant face, before then-

Smiles have left his eyes since Helena's disappearance. All he did was frown for the past twenty years. He was now looking older than his actual age. 

But thankfully, Helena's child has been found.

Lord Sergeant wiped the tears from his eyes as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.

 With shaky hands, he took a photo of the test result and sent it to a group chat. Almost immediately, his phone began to ring, buzzing with countless messages.

"Father, you found our youngest sister?" A message popped up in the group chat. 

Another followed, "Where is she? How is she?"

The questions kept pouring in. Lord Sergeant wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself.

Another message popped again, "Father is it really her?"