The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 235

Citrine had no memory of what had happened to her. Raymond, worried that the truth might upset her even more, stayed quiet about the details. When she turned to him with a question, he immediately steered the conversation away.

“You must be starving, Citrine,” he said, forcing a smile. “I had someone pick up that nourishing soup you like on Main Street. Why don’t you have a bit?”

As he spoke, Raymond thoughtfully unfolded the tray table and arranged the food in front of her, making sure everything was within easy reach.

Once he’d finished, he ushered everyone else out of the hospital room. He lingered for a moment, then quietly slipped out himself.

Out in the hallway, the Carmichaels turned their attention to Dr. Yates.

Raymond lowered his voice, anxiety tightening his words. “What’s going on, Yates? Why can’t Citrine remember anything?”

Yates let out a heavy sigh, resignation etched on his face. “Her condition has gotten much worse, Raymond. Every time she loses control, she ends up hurting herself. And afterwards, she forgets it ever happened.”

As he spoke, his expression grew grim. “At first, she wasn’t as hard on herself, but as things have progressed, she’s become more and more violent. The worst part is, she never remembers doing it, so she could be in danger at any time.”

He looked at them all, voice grave. “You have to keep a close eye on her. Citrine’s in a very serious state right now. Her emotions have to be watched every minute.”

Inside the room, once everyone had left, Citrine didn’t touch the food. Instead, she quietly lifted her left hand and began to carefully unwind the bandages from her wrist, layer by layer.

The deep, angry red of the wound stood out starkly against her pale skin.

She’d hurt herself again.

Citrine pressed her lips together, her face expressionless as she stared at the gash. It was worse than before—she’d gone even deeper this time.

If this kept up, it was only a matter of time before she managed to actually kill herself.

She scoffed quietly, eyes fixed on her wrist. “Monster,” she muttered.

That’s what she was—a monster through and through.

No wonder no one loved her. Who could ever love someone who might destroy herself at any moment?