Blimey, My Kid's the Heir to the Billionaire Boss!
Chapter 313 Sharper than Most

Amelia dared not speak anymore and, with a nod to Mr. Clemens, turned and left.

Silas voiced his concern while watching her retreat, "Do you really think Amelia is a good match for Mr. Potter?"

"What are you trying to say?" Mr. Clemens inquired.

"One's opinions mirror one's soul," Silas said diplomatically. "To dismiss a death as a trifle? That doesn't sound very kind."

"Amelia has been spoiled. She's a bit headstrong and direct, but she's not ill-intentioned," Mr. Clemens frowned. "Most importantly, I've known her father since he was a boy. His integrity is beyond reproach, so I'm willing to broker this engagement."

"But Amelia-"

"Enough," Mr. Clemens cut him off, instructing, "Take this food to the boy; he's still hungry."

"To the boy?" Silas was surprised. "Miss Amelia made this for you and brought it here..."

"Why all the fuss?" snapped Mr. Clemens impatiently.

"Yes, sir." Silas picked up the items, ready to leave.

"Never mind," Mr. Clemens said, "I'll go myself."

The duo headed upstairs, where Nathan had just been wheeled out of the emergency room and settled into the private suite.

Tailgating with a backpack, Noah anxiously asked, "Doctor, how's Nathan doing?"

"He's going to be okay; don't worry," the doctor reassured him. "Be careful not to trip now."

Seeing a child so young taking care of his brother was enough to soften and warm any heart.

Upon reaching the ward, the medical staff fitted Nathan with a new wristband, started an IV drip, and connected him to an oxygen supply and ECG monitor. Noah watched, fraught with worry.

Once the doctors finished, he approached again, inquiring, "Doctor, what's happening with Nathan? Why hasn't he woken up yet?"

"Where are your parents?" the doctor asked gently.

"I can't reach my mom." There was a catch in Noah's voice, but he quickly gathered himself and stood tall, saying, "You can tell me what's going on. It's just the same."

The doctor paused, then crouched down, gently asking, "How old are you? There are things to discuss with your parents. You look a lot like this injured kid; are you twins?" "No, we're triplets." Noah politely replied, "I'm Noah, this is Nathan, and we have a sister, Mia. She's got tonsillitis and is resting in a ward downstairs." "Oh, triplets, is it?" A few nurses gathered around, chuckling and chatting.

"She's adorable, even prettier than those child actors on TV."

"Are you mixed?"

"Where are your parents?"

"Ladies, my little brother is hurt and needs quiet." Noah frowned deeply, his tone serious as he said, "Can we please not have these idle chats here?"

The nurses were taken aback, their faces flushing with embarrassment as they repeatedly apologized, "Sorry, so sorry."

The doctor chuckled, reassuring him, "Kid, don't worry; your brother's fine."

"He's fine? Then why hasn't he woken up yet?" Noah pressed urgently, "Doctor, don't think I'm too young to understand; just tell me my brother's condition clearly. I can handle it." "Alright." The doctor suppressed his smile, speaking professionally, "Your brother has a fractured ankle and several abrasions on his body, along with a mild concussion."

"So, he hasn't woken up yet because of the concussion?" Noah sought confirmation again. "Are you sure it's only mild? Could there be any complications?"