The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 131

Not long after Citrine left, the man tasked with keeping order suddenly received a message from the school, informing him he'd need to come in tomorrow to complete his resignation paperwork.

His hand trembled. He immediately remembered what that girl had said to him just moments ago; all the color drained from his face.

It was her. It had to be her.

***

Meanwhile, after dropping Travis off at the hospital, Citrine suddenly remembered something. After thinking it over, she sent Manley a quick message.

CICI: Uncle, Travis is hurt. He's at Havencrest Prime Medical Center.

Manley replied almost immediately.

Manley: He's not dead, is he?

Citrine stared at the message, her expression torn. She wasn't quite sure if Manley had sent that by mistake.

She hesitated, then typed another message.

CICI: Uncle, I have something I need to take care of in a little bit. Would you be able to come pick up Travis?

Manley: Are you there too?

Seeing his reply, Citrine finally let out a breath of relief. At least this time Manley hadn't said anything weird—otherwise, she wouldn't have known how to respond.

Before she could say anything else, another message popped up.

Manley: Give me ten minutes.

***

By now, Travis had just finished getting patched up. As the nurse helped him out of the treatment room, he spotted Citrine sitting in the waiting area, looking out for him.

The moment she saw him, Citrine stood and walked over, taking the nurse's place by his side.

Travis had been through his share of injuries growing up, and he'd always toughed it out alone. This was the first time anyone had accompanied him to the hospital, bustling around to help.

He opened his mouth, uncomfortable, and mumbled, "Thanks."

"Don't come to my school anymore, big brother. My friends all laugh at me because you go to Havencrest Tech. You make me look bad."

"Can't you be better, big brother? Everyone else's brother is amazing. You just play video games all day."

Travis stared at Citrine, her gaze clear and honest—no hint of disappointment or contempt.

He realized, with a jolt, that she actually meant what she said.

For years, the Carmichael family had labeled him a lost cause. This was the first time someone had told him he was already good enough. Something indescribable stirred in his chest.

He was about to say something—anything—when he suddenly noticed the man in the wheelchair at the entrance.

"What are you doing here?" Travis shot his so-called father a cool glance, surprise flickering in his eyes.

After all, his father had never shown him a shred of affection. Travis could drop dead out on the street, and Manley wouldn't shed a single tear. Whenever Travis got sick, Manley never even asked after him, let alone visited.

The only explanation had to be Citrine.

And sure enough, Manley's next words confirmed it.