Rebirth Into My Second Chance

He didn't answer, but he twisted open the jar of cookies and pulled out a chocolate chip cookie. "Cookies make everything better," he said, offering me a small smile.

I frowned, and he stood up, grabbing his clipboard. "I've got to make rounds in the other wards. Richard has sorted out your discharge papers; you'll be heading home with him shortly."

As he walked away, I caught a glimpse of a blush creeping up his ears.

Could the boy from my dreams be Max? Somehow, their indifferent smiles blended together in my mind, each seeming to carry a burden of years beyond their age.

But even if it were him, it just goes to show, the world has a funny way of bringing people together.

Now, walking down the hospital corridor with Richard, ready to leave, we bumped into Claude, sitting in her wheelchair.

"Claire, you're leaving without saying goodbye?" she accused.

As if she had any right to play the victim. What more could she possibly want from me?

I look that gullible, Claude?" I shot back, catching the fleeting uncertainty in her

so quickly, don't you find yourself despicable?" She threw a diary at my feet, a testament to the years I spent under the illusion of love at the Hart family estate, now just a tool for her to

picked up the diary, not giving it another glance before tearing it

her physically, but I held him back. "It's not worth

being thrown made

careful around Claude," Richard warned as we waited. "She seems desperate for the Goodwin family's support, and possibly, for you. Could this be related to

shook my head,

a name popped into my

Hilton family?" I asked out of the blue. That night at Claude's villa, I remembered her calling

,

kept a low profile, and Maximilian shuns the limelight, focusing solely

the mystery of

aware of my connection to Maximilian, using me to

and her belief that I harbored resentment towards Maximilian, all seemed like part