The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Chapter 259

Clifford stared at Jeanette, eyes rimmed red. "That's impossible."

His mind rushed back to the memory of waking up alone in that room. Desperation edged his voice. "When I first came to, you were the only one there. Later, the housekeeper told me you'd looked after me the whole day and night. And wasn't Citrine off at the amusement park back then? There's no way it was her."

"Is it really impossible, or do you just refuse to face the truth?" Jeanette rolled her eyes, letting out a short, mocking laugh. "Clifford, you Iversons are all so hopelessly naïve. Have you ever stopped to think? I was always the one being waited on in our house-how would I ever take care of someone else?"

Clifford's face drained of color.

Jeanette ignored him, her smirk growing colder. "And those housekeepers? They're paid by my mother, Clifford. Do you really think they'd dare to contradict her?"

She paused, a bitter amusement flickering in her eyes. "As for Citrine, she was never at the amusement park. In fact, she's probably never set foot in one her whole life." Jeanette let out a soft, delighted laugh. "Guess where she really was?"

Clifford frowned. "Where?"

of you for twenty-four hours straight. Her body just gave out-she collapsed in her bed and lay there for two whole days before anyone even noticed. It wasn't until Sawyer came home and found her that she was rushed to the hospital. She almost

cruel?" Clifford stared at Jeanette in disbelief,

that episode all too well-Citrine being rushed to the hospital in a panic. The family had insisted she'd gotten sick from playing outside

he'd thought Citrine was just being dramatic. When he visited her in the

a wretched

he'd treated Citrine

a thousand memories crashed

disgust. "Tell me something, Jeanette-those gaming gift boxes I got

weight. She gritted her teeth and replied without hesitation, "Citrine. Only that idiot would save up all her allowance to buy you that junk. I'd never waste money on cheap stuff like that. If it weren't for the fact that you

when I was sick-who

hurt like hell. But Citrine's blood type matched yours, and whatever I said, the family always believed me. I told them it was my blood, and you all just believed it. Nobody even

leaden weight settled in Clifford's chest. He couldn't bring himself to