The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 111

That night, when Citrine returned to her room, Raymond noticed her backpack lying on the couch in the living room.

He walked over, intending to take it upstairs for her. But as he picked it up, he didn't realize the zipper was open; the moment he lifted the bag, everything inside spilled out onto the floor.

Raymond bent down to gather up the fallen items and noticed a stack of crimson certificates scattered across the carpet.

"Achievement awards," he murmured as he glanced at them.

After picking everything up, he gathered the certificates into a neat pile-there were quite a few of them. The one on top was for earning first place in her grade on a monthly exam. Underneath were more certificates for ranking first in her class and grade.

As Raymond flipped through the stack, he realized the awards spanned from when Citrine was four all the way to eleven. He carefully went through each one.

Most were for academic excellence-first place in tests—along with awards for math competitions, writing contests, problem-solving tournaments, even track and field. What surprised Raymond most was that every single certificate was for first place. Not a single second place among them.

were rumpled and creased, some even torn,

reached inside and wrenched his heart. The

showing off their achievements. What kind

certificates to Sawyer, only to be met with indifference. Alone in her room,

have been, for her to destroy the only evidence

certificates back together, smoothing out every crease, one by one. By the time he finished,

Citrine came home from school, she found workers bustling

they be renovating in

turned to Ismael. "Ismael, what's

"Miss, this was Mr. Raymond's idea. He gave instructions first thing this morning—said he wanted a

needed some extra storage, Citrine didn't think much of it and

she saw the finished result: an entire wall of elegant glass-fronted cabinets in the living room, and inside, every single certificate she'd ever earned, lovingly restored. The once-tattered fragments were somehow pieced back together, the creases ironed

stood there, stunned, for a long