Chapter 309

Olivia Sinclair rose from her seat, her fingers trembling slightly as she formed the words in sign language. "Donovan, I need your help finding a specialist. I can't stand communicating like this anymore."

Donovan Kensington's lips curved into an unexpected smile, his usually composed features lighting up with genuine warmth. The sound of his laughter surprised even himself.

Her request touched him deeply. After all these years, Olivia was finally leaning on him - not just as a distant relative, but as true family. The realization made his chest tighten with emotion.

"I'll make arrangements immediately," he signed back, his movements precise. "But we may need to return to Westhaven. My medical connections are stronger there."

He paused, meeting her hopeful gaze. "I give you my word, Olivia. No expense will be spared. Now, would you care to join me at Mercy Hospital? Alistair would be delighted to see you."

Olivia's answering smile was like sunlight breaking through clouds.

Alistair Kensington's condition had deteriorated sharply in recent days. The once-sharp businessman now stared blankly at visitors, recoiling from unfamiliar faces. Only Olivia seemed to penetrate his confusion, her presence inexplicably calming to him.

Today, it took Olivia nearly an hour to coax him into taking his medication. As the elderly man swallowed the pills, he grasped her wrist with surprising strength. "Young lady," he whispered conspiratorially, "could you ask these strangers to leave? They're making my head ache."

Olivia glanced meaningfully at Donovan, who immediately ushered the medical staff from the room. The sudden silence seemed to relax Alistair's tense shoulders.

"I don't understand why all these people keep calling me 'sir'," Alistair confessed, rubbing his temples. "But you... there's something familiar about you." His cloudy eyes searched her face. "What did you say your name was?"

Her hands moved gracefully through the air. "Olivia Sinclair."

"Olivia," he repeated slowly, as if tasting the name. Then his expression shifted to bewilderment. "Wait - how am I understanding you? Do I know sign language?"

She nodded, explaining through gestures that they'd been close friends years ago, and he'd learned to sign specifically for her. She assured him the memories would return in time.

"Friends?" Alistair echoed, a flicker of recognition crossing his face.

Olivia hesitated. The full truth - that she was his granddaughter - might overwhelm him in his current state. During these episodes, Alistair often believed himself to be decades younger, and attempts to correct him only caused distress.

With careful movements, she retrieved a photograph from her purse. The edges were slightly worn from frequent handling. She pointed to the elegant woman in the portrait, watching Alistair's face closely for any sign of recognition.

The air between them grew heavy with unspoken questions. Olivia held her breath as Alistair's fingers trembled against the faded image. His next words would determine whether this was another moment of clarity... or another heartbreaking disappointment.