The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 185

Not a single breeze stirred in Havencrest's summer air. The moment Citrine stepped out of her car, a wave of heat washed over her, leaving her feeling as if she'd been trapped inside a steaming sauna. The suffocating warmth pressed in from all sides.

Just a few days earlier, Travis had been in a biking accident—someone had hit him, and the doctor insisted he recover at home. With Travis falling behind on his studies, Citrine had offered to come by and tutor him, which he'd agreed to after a brief discussion.

She followed the location Travis had sent her, and by the time she found his house, it was already eight in the morning.

Citrine pressed the doorbell.

A woman she'd never seen before answered the door. The Carmichaels' housekeeper, Zelda, eyed Citrine with a hint of wariness before asking, "Miss, may I help you?"

Citrine offered a polite smile. "Hello, I'm Travis's sister. Manley is my uncle."

"I'm here to help Travis catch up with his lessons today."

Zelda hesitated.

The truth was, both Mr. Carmichael and his nephew had always been notoriously reclusive. Since Zelda started working here, she'd never once seen Travis bring a friend home. As for Mr. Carmichael, aside from the occasional visit from a close confidant, he never had guests over either.

Outside of Mr. Carmichael's old friends, this girl was the first visitor ever to set foot in the Carmichael home.

"Please, come in," Zelda said at last. Though surprised, she stepped aside and let Citrine in with polite formality.

The moment Citrine crossed the threshold, it felt as though the light had been dialed down several notches.

Despite the early hour, the heavy curtains were drawn tight across every window, blocking out every sliver of sunlight. Citrine had to squint to make out the details of the décor, which was all somber hues and shadowy corners. The place was a study in gloom, as if sunlight had been banished for good. Even in broad daylight, it felt like the sun would never rise here again.

When she reached the garden, she found Manley sprawled on the ground. His jaw was clenched, eyes bloodshot, his gaze icy with despair. He pounded his fists against his legs over and over, as if punishing them for betraying him.

Without thinking, Citrine rushed to his side and helped him up.

Manley was so lost in his pain he hadn't even noticed her approach. Feeling hands supporting his arm, he jerked away sharply, his face set in a stony glare.

"I told you, Zelda," he snapped, voice cold. "Leave me alone."

His tone grew harsher: "Get out. I want to be by myself."

Citrine hadn't expected him to shove her away so suddenly. The force of it sent her stumbling back several steps before she managed to steady herself.