The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 288

These things didn’t matter to Citrine.

That summer, on the Carmichaels’ advice, Citrine underwent surgery and finally regained full hearing in her left ear.

As her hearing returned, the memories of that terrible fire faded, growing more distant in her mind.

September arrived, and with it, the start of a new semester at Crestwood University.

The entire Carmichael family refused to let Citrine go alone for orientation. Against the collective will of her family, she had no choice but to agree to their company.

Citrine had enrolled as a pre-med major, with a second degree in literature.

The moment she stepped onto Crestwood’s campus, she was swept into a crowd of new students.

At eighteen, Citrine had truly grown into herself—her skin was luminous and fair, her features sculpted and striking, every detail so captivating it was hard to look away.

She caught eyes everywhere she went, from both guys and girls.

At the registration desk, a tall boy—easily over six feet—strode straight toward her. “Hey, do you need help finding your dorm?” he offered.

Citrine had just opened her mouth to politely decline when Raymond, her father, stepped in with a stony expression. He shot the boy a cold look and said curtly, “No need. We can see just fine.”

His daughter had barely reached adulthood, and already the wolves were circling.

“Sorry, I—sorry,” the boy stammered, realizing too late that Citrine was hardly alone. Embarrassed, he apologized several more times before slinking away, cheeks flushed.

The Carmichaels escorted Citrine all the way to her dorm. Once inside, Raymond set about wiping down her desk and chair.

“Citrine, come sit and rest,” he insisted, gently steering her into the chair.

Then, together with Travis and Salome, he set to work cleaning the room—making the bed, wiping down the wardrobe, hanging clothes, arranging toiletries.

Citrine and Weston had little to do except offer the occasional bit of direction.

In one corner, Citrine’s new roommates watched the whole scene unfold, silently wondering which family had sent their pampered princess to college.

Once the room was spotless and the time came to say goodbye, Weston and Raymond were struck by an unexpected emptiness.

Citrine had always been at their sides. Now, with her heading off to college, home would feel very different. The thought left both men with a bittersweet ache.

After repeating their instructions and goodbyes several times, the Carmichaels finally left, reluctantly.

As soon as they were gone, Citrine’s three roommates converged on her.