"Do painkillers even help?" Raymond and Calvin asked her in unison.
The doctors had prescribed plenty of painkillers before, but none of them had ever worked.
They didn't know whether Citrine's medication would be any different, but neither wanted to give up on any chance, no matter how small.
"Of course they'll help," Citrine replied, sounding completely certain.
Worried that Raymond might start overthinking things, Citrine paused for a moment before adding, "I can't pinpoint the cause, but your body is perfectly healthy. The pain in your chest won't do any real harm, so you don't need to worry about that."
"Is there really no way to cure it for good?" Calvin pressed, still unwilling to give up.
Citrine hesitated, then her eyes lit up as if she'd just remembered something. "Actually, maybe there is."
"If you want to get to the root of it and fix this once and for all, I'd recommend hypnotherapy."
As she mentioned hypnotherapy, someone came to Citrine's mind.
"I know an excellent hypnotherapist—I can put you in touch."
She quickly pulled out her phone and sent Raymond the contact details.
"Yates Cooper... Why does that name sound so familiar?" Calvin muttered, frowning in thought.
Citrine scratched her head and gave a little laugh. "Probably just because it's a common name."
Calvin repeated the name to himself a few more times until it suddenly clicked. "Wait, isn't Yates the most famous hypnotherapist in the world?"
But then he shook his head. Surely it couldn't be the same person—after all, that Yates was notoriously difficult to reach.
The possibility never really crossed his mind.
What intrigued him more was something else altogether. "Hey, how do you even know a hypnotherapist?" Calvin narrowed his eyes, genuinely curious.
In the entire medical field—and really, in everyday life too—hypnotherapists were the last people anyone wanted to get close to.
"I had a few mentors there. They taught me everything they knew."
It was the first time Citrine had ever mentioned her time abroad, and Raymond was a little surprised.
"They must have been really good to you," he said offhandedly.
"Maybe," Citrine replied, her tone distant, her face unreadable.
"So where are they now?" It was rare to hear Citrine talk about anyone from her past. Raymond found himself wondering if maybe, if she cared, he could track them down for her.
"They're dead," Citrine said quietly, the words blunt and final.
Raymond froze. He realized he had probably touched on something he shouldn't have and didn't say anything else.
That night, Citrine tossed and turned, sleep eluding her.
For once, she let herself remember her teachers from another life.
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress
please update this novel...