The Heiress’ Return: Six Brothers at Her Beck and Call



Chapter 1726 The Specialty Pills

Wynter and Drexel soon arrived at Willowbrook Hospital, where the bustling crowd of patients was notably larger than at other hospitals. The long line of patients waiting for medicine was a clear sign of the trust they placed in the hospital's care.

Wynter quickly realized that taking down Willowbrook Hospital would be far more challenging than dealing with the one in Riverburg, which was under the Gibson family's control. Apparently, Willowbrook Hospital could indeed provide effective treatments for its patients.

In the distance, an elderly woman was handing out a clinic banner and expressing her immense gratitude. She cried as she clutched the doctor's hand, "I can't thank you enough, Mr. Lappage. If it weren't for you, my husband wouldn't have lived to see another day!"

The doctor was a kind, middle-aged man with a fit build. He once appeared in a variety show, and his polished demeanor left a lasting impression.

The doctor patiently comforted the elderly woman, "We're just doing our job. Once you get home, keep an eye on your husband's condition. I'm sure he'll recover."

The elderly woman, overwhelmed with gratitude, struggled to find the right words. Some patients were even recording the scene and singing the doctor's praises.

The quickest way to learn about a hospital was through its attending physicians, especially those trusted and loved by their patients. Considering the doctor had been awarded a clinic banner, it was likely he had successfully treated a serious illness.

Wynter swiftly interrupted an applauding woman and inquired, "What's going on, madam? Is that doctor famous?"

"How could you not know Dr. Lappage? He's a miracle! He can cure any illness, and even cancer is nothing to him," the woman exclaimed in disbelief, as if not knowing the doctor was a form of ignorance.

"Is he really that skilled?" Wynter feigned astonishment as her gaze flicked toward Drexel.

Drexel obviously shouldn't be in the hospital at that time. Despite wearing a mask, he was still recognized right away. He had been keeping his distance from Wynter since entering the hospital, but he had no idea why she glanced at him.

Little did he know that Drexel had forgotten to mention Elisha Lappage earlier. After all, Elisha had been an average doctor with no exceptional skills until half a year ago.

Surprisingly, Elisha had grown remarkably skilled over the past year, achieving significant insights and breakthroughs in treating certain respiratory diseases. His reputation soared following his successful treatment of the two cancer patients.

In fact, most of the patients who visited Willowbrook Hospital had come specifically for his expertise. Though his transformation brought success to the hospital, Drexel failed to mention him.

Meanwhile, Martha Styward the woman chatting with Wynter couldn't stop singing Elisha's praises. "Not only is Dr. Lappage incredibly skilled, but he's also a kind man. Just look at the long line for his consultations that speaks for itself."

"If that's true, I should seek his treatment as well. Lately, I've had a cough and stuffy nose. I tried taking some cold medicine, but it didn't seem to help." Wynter played along with the woman's words.

Martha's eyes instantly lit up. "Why, I had the same symptoms! I visited various clinics and took different medicines, but nothing worked.

"But after consulting Dr. Lappage, I was all better! His medicine can be a bit pricey, but they're really effective. Just consult him every two weeks, and you'll be fine."

Hearing that, Wynter subtly frowned but kept her skepticism hidden. She flashed a smile and asked, "Does the health insurance cover the cost? You mentioned the medicines are expensive, but I'm only a student. I'm not sure if I can afford it."

Martha replied worriedly, "You're a student? I'm afraid you might not be able to afford it, then. The medicine costs around two thousand dollars for a two-week course. And it's a specialty pill, so it

red by health insurance.

"That said, you can't just remain sick like this, young lady. You should ask your parents for the money to get treated. Ms. Nina, who came with me, refused to purchase the pills because it was too expensive.

"She's been receiving treatment on and off, and now she's running a high fever. She was just admitted to the hospital. Not only has she suffered from her illness, but she also spent a fortune on ineffective treatments."

Martha made a valid point, but only under the premise that the illness was naturally occurring and not artificially induced. A temporary medicine with no guaranteed recovery was akin to ancient times' chronic detoxification practices.

While Wynter hoped that Elisha was an ethical doctor, she couldn't dismiss the situation easily under special circumstances. Moreover, it seemed odd that the specialty pills weren't classified as common medicine. Wynter doubted that Drexel was ignorant about it.

She flashed a smile at Martha. "Alright, I'll make an appointment with Dr. Lappage. By the way, is Ms. Nina in this hospital?"

"Oh, no. She claims that the treatments are too expensive, so she hardly comes here. She was admitted to another hospital nearby. It's funny, though. She actually thought of seeking spiritual guidance for her illness," Martha replied.

Wynter was momentarily stunned. Everything seemed just a bit too coincidental.

Patients unable to afford the medication were sent to another hospital, and all of them happened to be in critical condition. In contrast, those who received treatment at

Willowbrook Hospital showed immediate recovery.

Wynter pondered for a moment before averting her gaze. She made an appointment at the reception counter, though she had to wait through a long line.

After seeing Martha off, she approached Drexel and stated, "I'd like to hear more about this

Dr. Lappage and the pills you've kept hidden from the public."

Drexel didn't dare to meet her gaze. He knew that he would be held accountable for concealing information about the specialty pills, regardless of his intentions. After all, it had yet to be classified as common medicine.

"I admit that it's my fault. I shouldn't have allowed Dr. Lappage to use those pills," Drexel confessed.

Wynter remained silent, hoping to hear more. So, with a sigh, Drexel continued, "It all happened so suddenly. A week ago, people started coughing for no clear reason, and their respiratory systems quickly became infected.Belonging © NôvelDram/a.Org.

"At first, the usual treatment worked, but then they stopped having any effect. It wasn't until Dr. Lappage came up with this prescription that the disease was finally brought under

control."

He seemed agitated as he stated, "Willowbrook is a public hospital, and our resources are limited. We only managed to advance so far thanks to Mr. Tarvin's investments.

"I'm willing to step down from my position, Ms. Quinnell, but the fact is, only Dr. Lappage's pills proved effective. It's the only reason the patients can return to their daily lives."

Wynter fixed her gaze at Drexel. "I'll decide once I analyze the medicine. As fellow medics, I'm sure you understand that a drug with short-lived efficacy and addictive potential isn't suitable for proper treatment.

"By the way, you mentioned Mr. Tarvin. If I recall correctly, he spent much of his youth abroad and later returned as an investor for Cascadia. Is he affiliated with the foreign

doctors?"

When Drexel gave a nod of affirmation, Wynter seemed to piece something together. "What

about Dr. Lappage?"

Drexel pondered for a moment before answering, "If I remember correctly, he's Mr.

Tarvin's distant relative."

"I see. I'll go talk to the doctor, and you can handle your work in the meantime. I need to know this building's structure.

"Don't worry about the drug. If it really is the cure you claim it is, everything will be resolved accordingly. But my gut tells me that it's not meant for the people, and I'm sure you know it, too," Wynter commented as she lifted her gaze.

Drexel's eyes widened in shock. Wynter's words struck right at the uneasiness he felt deep inside. In fact, he had doubts about Elisha's medication, but he couldn't bear to watch the

patients suffer.

Someone once remarked that he wasn't cut out to be a doctor, as the profession demanded more than just saving lives-it required maintaining rationality and a strong mindset. Leaving Drexel to his thoughts, Wynter returned to the queue. She discovered that Elisha could swiftly assess a patient's condition without the need for a full diagnosis. Hence, the queue progressed swiftly, and it was soon her turn.

Elisha greeted her warmly, "What symptoms are you experiencing? A cough? Do you have a

headache?"

"A bit. I thought it was just a normal cold, but I haven't recovered," Wynter said, pretending

to be unwell.

Elisha's lips curved into a smile beneath the mask. Without glancing at Wynter, he scribbled quickly on the paper before handing it to her. "You'll feel better immediately after taking the pills I prescribed. You can pick it up next door."

Anyone who had visited a hospital would recognize the standard procedure for collecting medicine. Occasionally, the medical examinations could be so time-consuming that patients expressed frustration over spending thousands on minor ailments.

In modern times, no one could afford to fall ill without the financial means to cover the costs. The other hospital's strict adherence to such procedures only underscored Elisha's

integrity.

An experienced doctor might be able to assess a patient's condition with a mere glance, but

Wynter doubted Elisha shared the same skill. She asked tentatively, "My coughing has gotten a bit worse, Dr. Lappage. Would you mind taking a closer look at my symptoms?"

Elisha cast a glance at her and said, "I already know your condition the moment you sat down. Unfortunately, I can't give you the specifics. Those seeking my consultation know the rules here. Rest assured, young lady. The pills will take care of your illness."

Wynter pondered for a moment and asked, "How long should I take this? I'm still a student, and I don't have much money."

Elisha remained silent and glanced to the side. An assistant swiftly stepped in to explain." The pills' effectiveness is contingent upon the patient's physique. Please step aside, miss. The doctor needs to see the next patient."

Before Wynter could respond, the crowd behind her clamored.

"Are you done yet, young lady? I need to get my medicine!" "That's right. We're all waiting, so don't waste our time!" someone huffed.

"It's exactly as Dr. Lappage said. Everyone's condition is different. How is he supposed to

know how long it will take for you to recover?"

Faced with the criticisms, Wynter had no choice but to leave the seat and move to the next

room.

As a fellow medic, she could gauge one's medical talent with just a brief conversation. Now that she had deduced Elisha's true capabilities, it was time to investigate the highly praised medicine.

Upon arriving at the pharmacy next door, Wynter noticed that the shelves were mostly stocked with packets of specialty pills, with only a limited selection of other medicines.

When she went to collect the medicine, the nurse barely glanced at the prescription as she grabbed a blister pack from the shelves.

"It's two thousand dollars for a packet of pills, consumed within two weeks. Scan the QR

code to pay," the nurse instructed.

Wynter arched a brow and said, "You didn't even look at the prescription. How do you know

this is the one I need?"

"There's no need to look at it since all the patients share the same symptoms lately. Just pay

up," the nurse said as she waved dismissively.

After paying the bill, Wynter examined the blister pack. It contained 15 pills, exactly the amount needed for half a month's dosage.

As a medical professional, Wynter was well aware of the profits generated by the pharmaceutical industry. Buying medicine for an illness was no different from purchasing food when hungry. In fact, medicine was as vital as food, for it had the power to save lives.

In the face of life and death, two thousand dollars might not mean much. But what if that was just the beginning?

If a person had to pay two thousand dollars for half a month's supply, a family of five would

end up spending 20 thousand dollars a month for those specialty pills. It was especially so when considering Cascadia's vast population. Moreover, the medicine was a specialty drug rather than a common one.

Aside from its addictive properties, Wynte suspected that someone attempted to control the people through the drugs during the pandemic.

It was much like in ancient times, when the royal family would feed their undead soldiers drugs to ensure their obedience. Without it, the soldiers would face a violent death. Wynter's gaze darkened as she clutched the paper in her hand. Stepping away from the

crowd, she slipped into the service elevator with the card she had discreetly taken from the

nurse.

"I'm heading over to meet you right now, Mr. Asquith. Where's the virology lab? I need to

use it," she texted Drexel, but he didn't reply. Just as she was feeling confused, he texted back, urging her not to meet him.

Wynter frowned at the message. She swiftly deduced that something had happened to Drexel

-and she was right.

Logically speaking, the hospital director held the highest authority. However, Drexel was

aware that he was merely a figurehead. Instead, Willowbrook Hospital's true authorities were the foreign doctors standing before him.

"What are you doing here, Asquith? Shouldn't you be at the meeting?" one of the foreign

doctors casually asked, appearing rather frivolous.

Dave took off his glasses and gazed at Drexel. His eyes then dropped to the documents in

Drexel's hands. "What do you need those for?"

Drexel could feel his palms sweating as he fumbled for an explanation. "Oh, it's about the

recent outbreak. The higher-ups have ordered updates to the wards and equipment in all hospitals to prepare for future cases.

"Each hospital is required to provide information for personnel allocation. There will be specialists visiting, as well."

However, Dave wasn't convinced. "Does that information include the hospital's layout? It

seems you've forgotten what Mr. Tarvin said, Asquith. The only reason your hospital is still running is thanks to us. Everything you have here is underdeveloped. "Without me or Arwel, you wouldn't be able to cure half of these patients. Shouldn't you

consult us before making any decisions?"

As Dave spoke, he closed in on Drexel. "Also, am I imagining things, or are you shaking?"