There was just the faintest twitch of Stuart’s finger.
Amanda continued to push the nutritional supplement through his feeding tube, completely missing the subtle movement.
Knock, knock, knock—
A sharp rapping echoed from the hallway.
“Come in,” Amanda called out without hurrying.
A young doctor in a white coat stepped inside. He looked refined, maybe twenty-eight or twenty-nine.
This was Dr. Waldo Barrett, the physician overseeing Stuart’s recovery.
“Miss Amanda,” he greeted her.
Amanda had just finished administering the last of the supplement. Hearing Dr. Barrett’s voice, she stood up. “Dr. Barrett, you’re here.”
He nodded and moved to the bedside, opening his medical kit to check on Stuart.
Amanda stood nearby, her voice gentle with concern. “Dr. Barrett, how is my brother doing?”
Waldo’s voice was warm and reassuring, and when he spoke, he met Amanda’s gaze. “Don’t worry, Miss Amanda. I’ll do everything I can for him. I promise I won’t let you down. He’ll get better soon.”
Amanda smiled and nodded. “Thank you, Dr. Barrett. I really appreciate it.”
—
Two days later.
Caitlin finally got her Gulf Access Pass and boarded a flight to Neon Spire with Celeste.
Celeste could barely contain her excitement. “Catie, this is my first time traveling with a close friend!”
She’d only ever traveled with her parents and older brother before.
“It’s my first time too,” Caitlin admitted.
Jean glanced at her, curious. “Bonnie, do you know her?”
Jean, like the old Bonnie, came from a modest background—three generations of her family squeezed into a rundown apartment. The only reason Bonnie bothered spending time with her now was for the ego boost.
Their families used to be equally poor, but things had changed for Bonnie, and she loved the adoration Jean gave her. It felt so much better than fawning over Grace or Laurel.
Now, with her family’s improved circumstances, Bonnie treated Jean like a servant.
“I know her. That’s the orphan Fortune Kensington took in,” Bonnie replied coolly.
Since Fortune had cut ties with Ernest, Bonnie no longer bothered with formalities like calling him “Grandpa.”
Jean nodded, remembering Caitlin’s story. “Didn’t she already divorce the Chandlers?”
“She did.” A smirk tugged at Bonnie’s lips. “So now she’s just used goods, unwanted by anyone.”
Jean’s expression twisted with disdain. “To think she has the nerve to stand there taking photos after a divorce. In broad daylight, too—does she really think she’s something special? If I were her, I’d jump in a river and get it over with.”

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