“He was on crutches at the welcome banquet last time. I thought he’d just sprained it or something. It’s been a week, and he’s still not better. Don’t tell me he’s actually crippled now?”
“I don’t know. Did a memo go out that all handsome rich guys have to break a leg? Mr. Palmer is in a wheelchair, and now Finley’s limping.”
“That is interesting.”
“Shh—”
The gossiping group fell silent as they noticed Paxton and Vivica getting out of their car nearby. Paxton shot them a cold, piercing glare, while Vivica looked furious.
Thankfully, the couple didn’t say anything and strode toward the open gates of the manor. The young socialites let out a collective sigh of relief.
…
“The people here tonight are supposed to be high-society. What kind of behavior is it to gossip about others behind their backs!” Vivica was fuming after hearing her son being discussed so callously.
At first, she had thought Finley was just being dramatic when he said his leg was ruined, but now she knew it was true. Her husband, Paxton, had already contacted the world’s leading prosthetics expert to fit their son with the best artificial limb available.
Fate was so cruel! Why did this have to happen to her talented young son?
At least, compared to Haskell, he had only lost one leg.
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