The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 777

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Vester acted as if he didn't notice the scowls on the Archer family's faces.

Under everyone's watchful gaze, he wheeled himself toward Citrine.

"Ms. Carmichael, could I have a word with you in private?" Citrine glanced over her shoulder at Sebastian, then turned back and nodded to Vester.

"Would you liketo push you?" she offered.

"No need," Vester replied, shaking his head.

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The two of them-Citrine leading, Vester behind-made their way to a nearby sitting room.

Citrine feigned innocence. "Mr. Vester, if you have something to say, please say it." She was simply waiting for his invitation.

Vester regarded the young woman before him-barely twenty, yet already so accomplished. Her composure revealed nothing, making her seem enigmatic and unreadable. No wonder Darius Archer, that old fox, valued her so highly.

Vester couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement as he recalled what he'd learned about her: the cases she'd treated, the patients she'd cured, swith conditions that had stumped the best doctors in Northriver, others with rare illnesses hardly seen in the West. If she could do that-then maybe, just maybe, his own legs stood a chance.

Vester looked at Citrine, his eyes betraying a hint of hope.

"Ms. Carmichael, I asked you here because I'd like you to take a look at my legs." As he spoke, he absently ran a hand over his numb legs, trying to keep his voice steady.

Citrine answered without missing a beat.

She'd already gotten hold of Vester's medical records and reviewed photos of his legs; they weren't completely atrophied-there was still a chance.

Citrine crouched down and, without ceremony, rolled up his trouser legs.

She moved so quickly that Vester barely had tto react. Startled, he stiffened. People in Magnolia were hardly conservative, so embarrassment wasn't the issue. The problem was his legs-they looked awful, and he worried she'd be horrified. But Citrine simply examined him, completely unfazed. She looked up and asked in English, "Can you feel this?" She pinched his leg gently. "Does this hurt at all?" Vester lowered his head and shook it, defeated.

Citrine rolled his pant leg back down and stood.

The hope in Vester's eyes began to fade. Just as he was ready to give up, Citrine spoke again.

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"Although you can't feel anything in your legs, based on the degree of muscle atrophy, there's still a chance for recovery." Vester's eyes lit up instantly. "Really?" He couldn't stop asking, over and over.

Again and again, Citrine reassured him.

Vester was overjoyed his blue eyes, once dull and lifeless, now sparkled.

Seeing his happiness, Citrine feigned hesitation, her voice uncertain. "However, you should be prepared mentally." "It's alright. As long as there's hope, I'm not asking for more." After years of hearing nothing but disappointment, Citrine's words were a lifeline.

"You're overthinking it, Mr. Vester. I'm ninety percent confident I can help you. What I meant was-the recovery process will take a one time. You'll need patience for treatment and the rehab that comes after." When he heard "ninety percent," Vester's eyes shone even brighter. "Ms. Carmichael, I can wait-I'm not afraid of waiting." He'd waited all these years; now that hope had appeared, how could he possibly be impatient?

Then, as if remembering something, Vester's expression shifted. Hem looked at Citrine ahd said; “Ms.

Carmichael, I'd like to ask you for a favor." "What is it?" Citrine already suspected what he'd say: he would ask her to move into the Archer tom ehome. She'd learned that Vester

suffered from severe OCD; he refused to visit hospitals, finding them unhygienic. All his treatments ve had been administered at hby private doctors. Though she'd anticipated this, she still put on a look of curiosity.

"I'd like to invite you to stay at my house," Vester said, then quickly om added, "Don't worry 'I make sure you're well taken care of. I can agree to three conditions-anything within my power." Citrine pretended to hesitate, then, after a long pause, finally nodded her agreement.

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The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

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