chapter260
He’de to pick Cecilia up after a servant mentioned she was here. Finding her gone from Corrine’s room, a nurse reported a fight nearby, so he rushed over.
Thankfully, he arrived in time.
Cecilia stared at Wesley, unblinking, her voice icy.
“She ruined Corrine’s hands.”
Larissa ducked her head, feeling a bit guilty–but only a little. After all, they had no proof.
She pouted defensively, “Cecilia, do you have any proof?”
“Who else could it be?” Cecilia shot back hatefully.
Only Larissa would do something so vicious.
“Who knows who she offended?” Larissa retorted.
She just wouldn’t admit it.
“You-
“Ci, that’s enough.”
Wesley pulled Cecilia close. “Do you realize you almost fell just now?”
Cecilia let out a coldugh and shoved Wesley away. “So you’re protecting her again, is that it?”
Wesley frowned, “What happened to Corrine’s hand?”
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Cecilia’s heart ached, “Aminuted fracture in her right hand… She’ll never hold a pen again.”
Her eyes reddened, “Larissa did it.”
Wesley grabbed her wrist to calm her, soothing her.
“Ci, I’ll get top specialists to examine her. Don’t panic.”
“What about Larissa?”
Cecilia pressed,
Wesley paused two seconds before answering, “Need proof. I’ll investigate.”
Cecilia had cooled down. She knew with Wesley here, she couldn’t touch Larissa.
Besides, reckless violence paledpared to Corrine’s suffering.
“If it’s Larissa, I want her hand.”
Larissa bit her lip, gazing tearfully at Wesley.
Her brother would shield her.
But Wesley agreed.
“Okay.”
Larissa nched, staring disbelievingly at her half–brother.
He just… agreed?
Cecilia unclenched her fist and scoffed, “Better keep that promise.”
She mmed the door on her way out.
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Larissa exhaled shakily, “Brother, Cecilia can’t pin everything on me.
“Sure it wasn’t you?”
Wesley dropped that line with the letter and walked away.
It was a question.
More like an usation.
Larissa bit her lip tearfully, sensing Wesley’s attitude.
Wesley didn’t trust her.
He was siding with Cecilia now.
If Cecilia truly demanded her handter, he’d agree.
The more she thought, the more Larissa dreaded and resented it.
How dare Cecilia steal Wesley’s favor?
She was Wesley’s biological sister, the Carlton family’s daughter- what right did Cecilia have to interrogate her or demand
ountability?
Cecilia was only using her pregnancy as leverage…
–Larissa dug her nails into her palm.
Cecilia was preupied with Corrine’s situation, her spirits low on the way home.
Wesley remained silent, brows drawn tight, lost in thought.
The car stayed quiet, streetlights asionally slicing through the darkness, illuminating the space between them.
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Close, yet worlds apart.
Only when the car stopped at the entrance did Cecilia snap back to reality, pushing the door open.
Wesley followed her out, suddenly speaking up, “Ci, I have a business triping up.”
Cecilia tilted her head slightly. “Alright.”
She stepped inside.
Wesley stood in the autumn wind, a chill settling over him.
He felt it keenly–though reunited, their hearts had drifted oceans apart.
Sighing, he headed to the master bedroom to pack.
In the past, Cecilia always prepared his luggage, sparing him the trouble. Now she slept in this same room, yet never lifted a finger for him.
Whèeling his suitcase, Wesley paused at the doorway.
He seemed to want to say something, but ultimately held back.
The door clicked shut.
Cecilia opened her eyes.
Her fingers uncurled from the quilt she’d clenched.
Had Wesley stayed, she wouldn’t have known how to keep him from
this bed.
She slept quite well alone.
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The next day, she took Gwendolyn to see Corrine.
Wesley rearranged for a doctor to treat Corrine’s right hand.
Cecilia said softly to reassure, “Don’t worry, the doctor will find a way.”
Corrine leaned against the headboard, she had calmed down.
“Don’t worry, Ci, I won’t do anything stupid.”
If her right hand couldn’t be cured and she couldn’t be a designer, she could do something else.
After all, having survived with great difficulty, she had to cherish her life.
Cecilia finally breathed a sigh of relief; she had been really afraid that Corrine would be crushed by the injury to her right hand.
The two were chatting when Johan arrived.
He looked unusually tired, and even a bit unkempt.
When Corrine saw him, the smile on her face vanished.
“What are you doing here?”
Johan’s throat was dry, “Your hand…
He already knew about Corrine’sminuted fracture; his first thought was how upset Corrine must be at this moment.
After all, she loved holding a paintbrush to bring her inspirations to life stroke by stroke.
But from now on, she wouldn’t be able to hold a brush anymore.
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Without even realizing it himself, he felt a sense of guilt growing inside him.
Corrine raised her right hand, “I’m paying for your so–called hatred with my future. Isn’t that enough?”
Her eyes were calm.
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