NovelEnglishChapter 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 cto, you were the only one there. Later, the housekeeper toldyou'd looked afterthe 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?" "That poor thing took care 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 chand found her that she was rushed to the hospital. She almost died, you know." Jeanette's voice brimmed with perverse satisfaction as she recounted Citrine's childhood misery.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇt"How can you be so cruel?" Clifford stared at Jeanette in disbelief, his whole body going cold and rigid.
He remembered 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 and catching a chill.
Back then, he'd thought Citrine was just being tic. When he visited her in the hospital, he'd even scolded her, saying she deserved it.
What a wretched person he'd been.
As Clifford thought of all the ways he'd treated Citrine over the years, his expression darkened even further. Suddenly, a thousand memories crashed down on him.
He glared at Jeanette with disgust. "Tellsomething, Jeanette-those gaming gift boxes I got every year when I was a kid. Who actually gave them to me?" The Iverson family was useless to Jeanette now-if anything, they were just dead 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 looked so happy when you got those gifts, I'd never have let you think they were from me." Clifford struggled to keep his voice steady. "And back then, when I was sick-who was it that gave blood for my transfusion?" Jeanette scoffed. "Citrine again. You lost so much blood-I wasn't about to go through that, it would've 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 checked." A leaden weight settled in Clifford's chest. He couldn't bring himself to ask any more.
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He knew Jeanette was telling the truth. She'd always loved expensive things, never wouldXe given him N something cheap, and she was far too delicate to ever endure the pain of donating blood.
So it had all been Citrine-all of it.
Clifford felt ice creeping through his veins. God, what had he done all these years?
Citrine had argued with him about the gifts and the blood donation more than once. And at the time, how En had he treated her? Clifford almost wished he could forget.
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