"You just broke your fever. You can't be careless," Ian's tone was non-negotiable. "I'll have Gavin Young bring your medicine over right now."
"You really don't have to trouble yourself—" Eleanor started to refuse, her mind completely focused on her work.
"Eleanor," Ian said, his voice dropping with a hint of frustration. "Do you want to collapse before Mansfield's surgery? If you want to save him, you need to learn to take care of yourself first."
Eleanor was stunned into silence. She was right. She relented. "Okay. Thank you."
It seemed all she could say to him was 'thank you.'
"Get back to work," Ian said, ending the call.
Eleanor clutched her phone, not dwelling on it, and turned back toward the lab. For the next seventy-two hours, she probably wouldn't even be able to go home.
At noon, the cafeteria delivered lunch to the lab's break room. Gavin also arrived with her medicine, reminding her to be sure to take it.
Byron's team had also arrived. The lab was a model of efficiency, with tasks clearly divided. Without needing extra instruction, both teams dove into the work, tackling one obstacle after another.
In the evening, during a brief moment of respite, Eleanor checked her phone. A message from Ian had come in: [Don't worry about Evelyn. I'll take good care of her. You focus on your work.]
Eleanor stared at the message for a few seconds. She hadn't even had a chance to think about arrangements for her daughter. She had to race against the clock for these seventy-two hours, with no time to spare for anything else.
She replied with two words: [Thank you.]
Then she added another message: [I appreciate all the trouble.]
[Focus on what you need to do. I'll take care of everything else.]
Reading his words, she finally felt free to hurl herself into this life-or-death battle.
This time, an indescribable emotion welled up inside her, but she had no time to examine it. Ryan called out to her, "Eleanor, come here a minute."
He saw the equipment being escorted in and Eleanor and Ryan leading the way. He walked over to them.
"Thank you for all your hard work," he said, his voice hoarse. He shook their hands, his eyes full of trust.
"Mr. Ellington, we will do our absolute best," Eleanor promised solemnly.
Just then, the sound of steady footsteps echoed from the other end of the hallway.
Ian had arrived.
His expression was grave. He nodded in acknowledgment to Garth. "Mr. Vice President."
"Ian, we owe you a great deal for this," Garth said, shaking his hand, his tone sincere and filled with gratitude. "The Ellington family will not forget what you've done for us."
"It was the right thing to do," Ian replied humbly, before his gaze fell on Eleanor.

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