The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress

Vester acted as if he didn't notice the scowls on the Archer family's faces.

Under everyone's watchful gaze, he wheeled himself toward Citrine.

"Ms. Carmichael, could I have a word with you in private?"

Citrine glanced over her shoulder at Sebastian, then turned back and nodded to Vester.

"Would you like me to push you?" she offered.

"No need," Vester replied, shaking his head.

The two of them-Citrine leading, Vester behind-made their way to a nearby sitting room.

Citrine feigned innocence. "Mr. Vester, if you have something to say, please say it." She was simply waiting for his invitation.

Vester regarded the young woman before him-barely twenty, yet already so accomplished. Her composure revealed nothing, making her seem enigmatic and unreadable. No wonder Darius Archer, that old fox, valued her so highly.

Vester couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement as he recalled what he'd learned about her: the cases she'd treated, the patients she'd cured, some with conditions that had stumped the best doctors in Northriver, others with rare illnesses hardly seen in the West. If she could do that-then maybe, just maybe, his own legs stood a chance.

Vester looked at Citrine, his eyes betraying a hint of hope.

asked you here because I'd like you to take a

ran a hand over his numb legs, trying to keep his voice

without missing

reviewed photos of his legs; they weren't

without ceremony, rolled up his trouser

problem was

gently. "Does this hurt at

lowered his head and shook

pant leg back

eyes began to fade. Just as he was ready

based on the degree of muscle atrophy, there's still a

up instantly. "Really?" He couldn't stop asking,

and again, Citrine reassured

his blue eyes, once dull

her voice uncertain. "However, you should

there's hope, I'm not asking for more." After years of hearing nothing but

I'm ninety percent confident I can

process will take

need

the rehab that comes