Chapter 214: The Dead Can&##x27;t Be Brought Back

"Feel free to eat. It's my treat."

Freddie waved his hand and reserved the entire oden stall.

The woman selling oden was happy, "Come, take a cup and pick it yourself. Which do you prefer? The
ingredients are all fresh."

Freddie picked up a big box full of it and let the woman pour the sauce, then he sincerely brought it to
Cleveland Sanchez, "Come on, it's on me."

Hurried up, finished it, and got lost.

Freddie was inwardly delighted, thinking that how could a spoiled child like Cleveland eat something
like this?

Cleveland looked at the large cup of skewers, examining it for a while, and then took it.

"This? What's it called?"

"Oh my, you don't even know what is this?" The woman at the side was feeling helpless.

Cleveland nodded and commented, "A simple version of hot pot."

"Do you eat hot pot?" Freddie was doubtful looking at him.

For why, Freddie always thought that Cleveland was born to eat only western food, expensive and tiny
portions.

"Compared to western food, I prefer the rich variety and strong taste of Chinese food."

Cleveland spared Freddie a glance and started eating the skewers in his hand.



Slowly, he ate up all the food.

Cleveland, were you a pig?

Freddie's eyes nearly popped out of his head, "You ate it all?"

"It tastes good. Have another one please."

Cleveland looked at Freddie and handed him the empty cup with an expectant look.

Freddie believed that Cleveland really liked eating this. He regretted taking him to this.

"Can you stop eating?"

"Why don't you eat too?"

Cleveland handed a tempura, coated with the special sauce, "Have a try, It's delicious."

"Of course I know it's delicious." Freddie almost went crazy, "Would I even wait until you hand it to me if
I can eat? Eating one of this would cost me an extra two hours of running on the treadmill at night. I'm
exhausted."

Others wouldn't experience the life of a male entertainer.

Cleveland nodded, "You don't have to be so hard on yourself. I think it doesn't matter whether you are
fat or not. But it might feel better to the touch if you are chubby."

Hearing this, Freddie was hot under the collar and saw the face of the woman selling oden changed.
He gritted his teeth, "Cleveland, screw your uncle."

"My uncle was dead ages ago. But you can screw my sister, she's so hated."



"You're nuts."

Freddie rolled his eyes at Cleveland. When he was digging into his own pocket, he noticed a few
missed calls on his phone from the Downey family's old nanny, Camille.

He called back immediately, "Hello? Camille, what's the matter?"

Cleveland was busy eating his food, and he saw Freddie's face turned pale while talking on the phone.

"Have you informed Hayden? Tell me the hospital's address. I'm heading there now."

He turned around and headed to the roadside after finished talking.

Cleveland was about to follow Freddie but being halted by the woman, "Hey, you haven't paid yet!"

He put a stack of cash on the table and left in a hurry, trying to keep up with Freddie.

It was already late at night. In the hospital, there were sobbing sounds from the family as well as
apologies from all the doctors involved in the operation, "Condolences, the dead can't be brought
back."

The doctors were already numb for saying these words so many times.

Outside the operating room was chaos.

When Freddie arrived, Hayden Downey was sitting alone in the corner with her eyes red, staring in the
direction of the operating room. Sofia Mason was fussing with the doctor, but Hayden didn't intend to
dissuade her.

"You can't be like this. The patient died of acute liver failure. We have tried our best to resuscitate. We
did our best."



"Nonsense. Brook was still fine in your hospital previously and you said that he could be discharged.
And this happened after he was discharged not long ago. How could this not be your responsibility?"

Sofia acted like a shrew, yanking the doctor's white coat, and she even ripped off the coat's pocket. In
fact, she wasn't feeling grieved but more of a resentment.

Nobody knew why she was resentful of the doctor.

Chelsea Downey and Hayden were separated by their father, covered with a white cloth on the surgical
trolley, and their mother, who was madly causing trouble. Chelsea never thought that she would be in
such a dilemma one day.

Chelsea felt embarrassed looking at her mother's madness of wantonly causing trouble and putting all
the blame on the doctor. She never felt of having blood on her hands for any moments like now.

"Mom, that's enough."

Chelsea suddenly spoke out and tugged her mother, who was on the ground, "Dad is dead. Be quiet."

There were tears in Sofia's eyes, and she was astounded, feeling dissatisfied. She shook off Chelsea's
arm and moved to the side with the help of the crowd. The doctors then were able to push the surgery
cart into the morgue.

Among the rowdies, only Hayden was alone and followed the surgery trolley quietly.

This was followed by Freddie, who came late.

"Freddie."

Chelsea quickly stepped forward and called out to Freddie.



"What's the matter?" Freddie looked back at Chelsea.

"No, nothing." Chelsea could hardly say it, "I'll handle it here. Go ahead and comfort her. After all, the
dead can't be brought back."

Freddie frowned, "I know."

After saying this, he went after Hayden without even looking back.

Chelsea was staring at him for a long time. She laughed as she watched him leave.

From the past to the present and even into the future, his back would always face her. Freddie had
never taken the initiative to look at her. And she didn't know what she was still clinging to.

"Mr. Downey died, but why does Ms. Downey seem not to be sorrowful? Did she have a bad
relationship with her dad?"

Chelsea came back to her senses, hearing a cold voice. She raised her head, and she was stunned,
seeing Cleveland, who showed up unexpectedly, "Mr. Sanchez, what do you mean by that?"

"Nothing. I just think that it's funny. Her father died and her mother making a big fuss to put the blame
on the hospital. Is the Downey family lacking of this compensation? Or maybe lacks of a reason to
comfort yourself?"

Chelsea's face changed, "Mr. Sanchez, you just can't say whatever is on your mind without
consequences."

"I'm just saying."

Cleveland smiled, and the way he looked at Chelsea was chilling.



He had seen a lot of such gossip in those wealthy families. Brook Downey was just in his fifties but died
of organ failure, and even the hospital wasn't sure about the cause of death. It was inconceivable.

And the reaction of the widow and daughter of the Downey family was also suspicious.


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