Chapter 9
K32%
In the cramped room, there was only a worn–out folding bed and a few basic belongings scattered around. The rest space was filled with clutter, the walls yellowed and musty, with cobwebs in the corners
t of th
the
As he saw the state of her living conditions, Harry’s anger flared. “Hazel, what is this? Camila is my sister! Who allowed you
to make her live here?”
Hazel, looking both guilty and helpless, replied. “Mr. Jackson, didn’t you tell Miss Jackson to stay here? Have you forgotten?”
“When did I ever. Harry started to speak, but the words trailed off.
Eight years ago, when Camila was brought back home, he had let her choose her room.
She picked the guest room next to his bedroom, but he immediately rejected it. I’m turning this room into a study. Pick another one.”
Then she chose the room next to Agnes’s, but he turned that down too. That room is for Agnes’s art studio. You can’t stay
Finally, Camila chose the attic, but he wouldn’t allow that either. “You’re the heiress of the Jackson family. If anyone finds out you’re living in the attic, we’ll become a laughingstock. Hazel, don’t we have any other rooms?”
“There is one, but it’s just a storage room….”
Then clear it out and let her stay there temporarily.”
He had imagined the storage room to be similar to a guest room–spacious and well–lit–but he had been wrong. The room didn’t even have windows.
Now, the image of Camila spending all those lonely, cold nights in that dim, isolated room filled him with more pain than he could bear.
In this huge villa, even the servants had their own rooms, but Camila had been forced to live in a damp, dark storage for three years. The realization nearly suffocated him.
room
Harry was tense, his anger palpable. Hazel hesitated before suggesting. The storage room is damp. Maybe we should let Miss Jackson stay in my room instead?”
“No,” Harry rejected firmly. At that moment, it felt like his heart had been pierced by countless tiny needles, each one carrying guilt and sympathy, mixing together in a way he couldn’t explain.
He took a deep breath and said, “Call Michael. Tell him to come to my room.”
With that, he carefully cradled the unconscious Camila in his arms and walked briskly toward his bedroom.
Watching him go. Hazel felt a slight relief for Camila. She thought, ‘At least today, Mr. Jackson is showing some concern for her. He has always ignored her before, but now, he is acting like a real brother!
She quickly dialed Michael. “Hello? Dr. Walker, Miss Jackson is unwell. You need to come right away…”
Five minutes later, the door to Harry’s room opened with a soft creak, and Michael Walker’s voice preceded him.
but now you’re
“Harry, how much of a ‘sister’s boy‘ can you be? Agnes is sick, and you wouldn’t let her rest in her own room, b dragging her into yours… wait, who is this?” Michael said.
As Michael walked in, his teasing tone disappeared when he saw Camila lying on the bed, pale and unconscious. His expression quickly shifted to one of disdain.
1/3
32%
Chapter 9
“I don’t treat labor camp prisoners,” he said, grabbing his medical kit and turning to leave.
“Michael,” Harry called, his voice low but firm, filled with a quiet, unshakable resolve. “She’s my sister. Don’t call her a labor camp prisoner
Michael’s face was as cold as frost, his expression frozen with indifference. “She’s your sister, but what about Agnes? She may share your blood, but Agnes is the one who actually grew up with you, who is truly family,
“Emily, the respected young lady of the Connor family, was turned into a vegetable by her. She served only five years in prison and now lives a normal life. But who gave Emily the chance to wake up? Her life was ruined by that woman!”
Harry’s face showed a moment of hesitation, his hands clenching and unclenching unconsciously.
On one side, he felt guilt and the weight of family ties toward Camila. On the other, he couldn’t ignore the deep injustices suffered by Agnes and Emily. He felt like he was caught between two immovable boulders, unable to move forward or back.
“She… after all, is my real sister,” he said, his voice weak but still holding firm.
Michael shot him a cold, mocking smile, his gaze fixed on Camila’s frail, emaciated face. “I couldn’t care less. A woman with such a malicious heart–fix her, and she’ll only cause harm to others.”
“Michael!” Harry raised his voice, staring at Michael. His eyes pleaded, yet were also firm with authority. Then at least check. her over, especially her right leg
The two
two men locked eyes, a moment of silence stretching between them.
After a beat, Michael relented with a sigh. Fine, I’ll check, but don’t expect me to treat her.”
He moved back to the bed, set down his medical kit, and roughly yanked up Camila’s pants leg, muttering, “I really don’t know why you’re putting so much effort into her. A person like her deserves to…
His
complaint cut off abruptly. His eyes locked onto Camila’s bony leg, and he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the twisted break. Shock surged through him, his mind reeling.
Camila’s right leg, from the calf down, was twisted at an unnatural angle. The skin was pulled tight over the jagged bone. with almost no extra flesh.
The scar at the break resembled a grotesque centipede, winding across skin so pale it was almost transparent. Dark red bruises dotted the surrounding area.
Michael slowly raised his long, slender fingers, gently touching the broken leg. Each contact sent a wave of unease through him.
His fingers trembled, despite his deep discomfort and disgust toward Camila. As a doctor, his professional judgment told him immediately just how severe the injury was.
“Was her leg… like this before?” he asked.
The question hit Harry like a punch. His eyes flashed with cold fury. “Impossible! During the three years she was at home, her leg was fine.”
Michael understood. This injury must have occurred in prison.
He pushed down his shock and continued the examination. The more he examined, the more his frown deepened, his expression growing more serious.
Camila’s
is physical state was appalling. Long–term malnutrition had left her weak, and her body was covered in a mix of old and fresh injuries, as though she had been whipped
2/3
Tue, 22 Apr
Chapter 9
Michael couldn’t bear to look any longer. He stood up, his voice hoarse. “Harry, come outside”
In the study, Harry straightened, his tone sharp. “Speak”
324
Michael took a deep breath, trying to compose himself, then spoke slowly. “Do you know the hardness of human bones?”
Harry shook his head.
Michael looked at him, speaking each word clearly. “Human bones are incredibly strong, especially the tibia and fibula. To cause a crush fracture, you typically need high–impact force–like from a severe car accident or a fall from a great height. “Since she was in prison, a car accident or fall is nearly impossible. Her leg looks more like it was caused by blunt force
trauma.
“Looking at the wound, it’s obvious she didn’t get proper medical treatment. The bone didn’t heal properly and just fused on its own, which is why it’s so deformed.
“The pain she must have endured is unimaginable. That she’s still alive is a miracle.”
As Michael spoke, Harry began to tremble uncontrollably. His fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white.
His eyes were filled with fury, like molten lava churning inside him. “In prison how could they do this to her?”
Images of Camila being tortured in prison, her fragile body repeatedly struck with blunt instruments, flashed in his mind. The aching pain in his chest made his vision blur. It took a long while for him to suppress the anger building inside. “Michael, is there any hope for her leg?” he asked.
Michael shook his head, his face full of reluctance. “Her leg has been like this for at least three years. It’s too late to treat it
Harry froze in place, unable to process the words. He didn’t notice when Michael left. When he finally came to his senses, he had slumped into a chair, defeated.
His mind was a mess, Habitually, he reached for a cigarette, but his shaking hand couldn’t light it. Frustrated, he slammed the unlit cigarette to the ground, clutching his head with both hands, his fingers digging into his hair.
His body curled, trembling, as he gasped for air, his throat tight. Time seemed to freeze in that moment, his pain expanding
without end.
After a long while, his breathing began to slow. He finally raised his head, his face a cold mask as he grabbed his phone and dialed quickly.
“Sebastian, find out everything Camila went through during her five years in prison. No detail is too small. His voice was low and chilling, each word sharp, as if it were made of ice.
୦
AD
Comment
Send gift
No Ads
32%
19:42 Tue, 22 Apr SD
Chapter 10
