No More Mrs. Nice Wife (Eleanor) novel Chapter 1374

Morning sunlight streamed through the hotel curtains, the shifting light rousing Eleanor. She had barely slept, her eyes red and swollen with dark circles underneath. Thinking of the conference session that day, she went to the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face.

She took a deep breath, her mind filled with images of her father bustling around the lab. He had been racing against time, aging a lifetime in just two short years, his vitality drained by the relentless pace. Ten years ago, research technology and AI were not as advanced, and her father had to rely on traditional experimental methods, performing repetitive data collection over and over.

Pushing forward, trial and error, starting from scratch again and again—

The mere thought of it brought silent tears streaming down her face. What on earth had he been researching?

That year, Gina Quinn's blood disease was only in its early stages, and Dr. Smith hadn't yet identified its hereditary nature. So, at the time, her father wouldn't have known about the genetic risk to his own daughter.

It was also impossible that her father was simply a tool for Ian's profit. The research wasn't a broad study of all leukemias; it was a focused, relentless exploration of one specific type: spontaneous-mutation hereditary leukemia.

Marilyn was currently the only known case of this rare disease in the country. A team at Ashford Medical University was still studying her family, running tests and tracking their health, and had waived all her treatment costs.

Eleanor couldn't understand her father's actions back then. Who could he have been trying to save that would make him throw himself so completely into this research?

She now understood why Ian had been so reluctant to show her the document. It was a complete record of the countdown to her father's death. For her, it was a brutal, devastating blow.

Eleanor wiped her tears away again and checked the time. She went to the closet, pulled out a suit, and changed, forcing herself to calm down and look presentable.

She remembered her father's personality had changed somewhat in his last two years. When her daughter turned two, she had invited him to come for the birthday party, but he refused. She had been so disappointed at the time.

Now, all she felt was guilt and regret. She hadn't noticed the circumstances he was in, assuming he was just busy with research, not that he was desperately fighting for it. If only she had urged him to take care of himself, shown him more concern, maybe she wouldn't have lost him.

Eleanor suddenly felt a chill and wrapped her arms around herself. A storm of emotions churned inside her. In recent years, she had been too busy to dwell on the past, but now, her mind was flooded with memories.

Memories of her father, of Ian, of her daughter, of herself—small fragments of her life, all coming into sharp focus.

Ian had also been in Drexford for most of that time. He had even appeared in some of her father's videos, but he was just making small talk. It was clear from the videos that her father had no time for him.