Justine escorted Sheila to the hospital, though he was surprised by their destination. Sheila had promised to introduce him to her new parental guardian ever since her sister's death.
Parent or guardian? He mused to himself with a subtle smirk. Which is it, really?
"We're here!" was all Sheila said. They entered a private room that was heavily guarded, but the guard let them in without much question.
"I'm with him," Sheila said quickly as the guard looked ready to stop Justine.
The guard simply nodded and allowed them to pass. Inside, a frail old man lay on a hospital bed, various medical tubes and devices attached to him.
"Daddy," Sheila greeted with a cheerful voice.
Justine's brows furrowed. When did that man become her 'daddy'? Anger stirred in his chest. The Santiago blood ran hot in his Gonzalez veins, and this encounter made it boil.
Stay strong, Justine. You're not here to lose control. You're here to investigate—nothing more. He reminded himself to stay calm. You're Madrigal today, not Gonzalez.
He inhaled deeply, forcing himself to ignore the way the old man's behavior toward Sheila made his skin crawl. It wasn't fatherly at all.
Interesting, he thought.
"Sheila, come here," she called out to him.
He nodded and stepped forward toward the elderly Raymundo Santiago.
"Good morning, sir," Justine greeted respectfully. Sheila even helped him straighten up slightly.
Raymundo didn't respond at first—he only stared at him intently.
"He's a lawyer, right?" Raymundo asked Sheila.
"Yes, Dad. He's the one helping me and Martin with the divorce paperwork," Sheila explained with a fleeting glance at Justine. "He's a great lawyer."
"Oh, I see. Where's Martin? I haven't seen him in a while," Raymundo asked.
"He's just busy, Dad. But if you want to see him, I can invite him," Sheila offered, glancing at Justine.
Justine said nothing, just observing quietly.
He doesn't recognize me… Good thing Dad never took me to meet the Santiago family, Justine thought.
"I see, I see. Thank you for always helping my Sheila," Raymundo added, patting Sheila on the back. "I'm just making sure no one hurts her. She's my goddaughter—I'm very protective of her."
Protective, my ass. Justine seethed internally. You killed your own daughter. He merely smiled to hide the fire burning beneath.
"Yes, of course. If you ever need anything, I can help you too," Justine offered politely.
"Oh no, no need. I'm thankful there are people like you taking care of this woman. I'm old now—I need rest."
"Don't say that, Dad," Sheila said, her voice on the verge of tears.
"That's life, Sheila. You have to fight. Many people love you, and they'll protect you. Martin will love you, too," Raymundo added gently.
Sheila simply nodded in agreement.
Justine tried not to burst into laughter. He needed to excuse himself before he did something he'd regret.
"If I may, I'd like to excuse myself for a moment," Justine said calmly.
Sheila looked at him, likely assuming he was upset.
Sorry, Sheila. I don't care about your drama. I'm not here to play husband or boyfriend—I'm here to expose the cracks in your story. He kept his thoughts to himself.
He tapped Sheila's shoulder. "Don't worry, I'll come back."
Raymundo nodded without a word as Justine turned and left the room. Once outside, he moved quickly out of sight, lit a cigarette, and shook his head in disbelief.
He wandered the hospital for a bit, scanning the hallways until he spotted Sharlene with her two companions.
I need to keep an eye on them, too. He took a final puff from his cigarette and flicked it away. While here, he decided to make use of his time and visit Rosario.
I need to confirm something.
He turned the doorknob—it wasn't locked.
"What are you doing here?" a woman asked as Sharlene stood silently nearby.
"If you're here again to pester me about the divorce or that other complaint involving that woman, I'll accept it. But I'll always prove I'm innocent," Sharlene said firmly.
Justine raised his hands slightly. "Whoa, calm down. I'm not here for the divorce or any legal matter."
"Then why are you here?" the woman, Vivianne, asked sharply.
Time to plant the seed.
"Sharlene Rosario—Francisco," he said, watching her reaction. "Are you aware the Rosario family adopted you?"
"Why are you so interested in my sister's adoption?" Vivianne cut in, her brow raised.
"I can help if you're curious. If you want to know your real background—who your real parents are," he offered.
Sharlene narrowed her eyes. "I don't need your help. I already know where I came from."
Ah, she knows... Justine saw the certainty in her eyes.
"I'm just offering—" he said.
"What do you get out of it? Shouldn't you be taking care of Sheila?" Vivianne interrupted.
Justine's fingers brushed against a strand of hair he had taken from Sharlene's comb. He didn't know whose it was, but he had a plan.
Let's see if my lucky charm still works.
"Well, here's my contact number, in case you change your mind," he said, handing her a slip of paper. He noticed Vivianne discreetly handing the comb back to Sharlene and hiding it away.
He turned to leave—and almost ran into Martin.
"Hey," he greeted, tapping Martin on the shoulder.
"What are you doing here? Is Sheila around?" Martin asked calmly.
"I should be asking you that," Justine replied. "Sharlene's ready to sign the divorce. So what are you doing here?"
"Ashley needs me. I'm not here for Sharlene," Martin answered flatly.
Justine could sense his annoyance. "Yeah, yeah. You said that." He brushed past him and walked straight to his car.
Once inside, he placed the strand of hair into a Ziploc bag and stored it safely. Time to call the family doctor.
Just then, Sheila approached the car.
She got in. "Hey, have you been waiting long?" she asked sweetly.
"No, just got here. Are you done talking to your dad?" Justine asked casually.
"Yeah, he was thrilled to meet you. Sorry you had to hear all that," Sheila said, embarrassed.
"It's okay. Don't worry about it." He smiled at her.
They kissed briefly before driving off, Justine choosing not to mention that Martin had been there too.