Ann Vaughn’s face changed, and she rushed to the trash can, covering her mouth, retching for a long time, but nothing came out.
A nearly impossible thought flashed through her mind, but before she could think deeply, her phone rang.
It was the current owner of the small clinic calling.
"I’ve managed to gather enough money, okay, I’ll go over now." Ann Vaughn endured the discomfort from the acid in her stomach as she answered, and after hanging up the phone, she left the hospital directly without going back for her bag.
When she arrived, Ann Vaughn transferred the money to the current owner of the small clinic, and they signed the contract face-to-face, finally returning the clinic to Ann Vaughn.
The small clinic may not be large, but it’s well-equipped.
At the front is a mahogany table, with several herb boxes neatly arranged at the back. A few steps inside, there’s a small rest area and a bathroom, while the kitchen is in the backyard.
It looked empty and cold, yet it gave Ann Vaughn a strange sense of belonging.
She had herb supply channels left by her grandfather, so she wasn’t afraid of failing to extract good medicine, nor of her medical skills not supporting the small clinic.
The only fear was that no one would believe the medicines she extracted were genuinely effective, and she also had to guard against the Hawthorne Family discovering that the small clinic was hers, otherwise they might set it on fire.
Thinking about this, Ann Vaughn took her phone and left the small clinic, planning to find another job to confuse the Hawthorne Family.
Ann Vaughn didn’t return to the Hawthorne Family for three days, busy selecting herbs and job hunting, choosing to selectively avoid the incident at the hospital that day.
Yet, after attending several job interviews, there was still no definite result.
Slightly worried, Ann Vaughn hung the advertisement sign on the wall at the entrance, and as she turned around, her view was suddenly overshadowed.
"I’ve heard you haven’t been home for three days."
The cold words made Ann Vaughn’s heart tremble, and she looked at his dark eyes without speaking.
Cyrus Hawthorne’s gaze swept from the sign "Vaughn Clinic" and his thin lips curved in a mocking smile, "Come back with me."
Although he had no aversion to herbal medicine, he didn’t believe Ann Vaughn, who grew up in the countryside and followed her rustic herbalist grandfather, could have any real accomplishments.
Especially considering she only studied for one semester at The Herbalist Hospital.
Ann Vaughn’s eyelashes fluttered lightly, and she couldn’t help but recall the conversation she had overheard at the hospital that day. Her red lips tightened firmly, barely maintaining a semblance of composure while ignoring the dull ache in her heart.
She wanted to question him about whether he truly intended to swap her heart for Cynthia’s, but her throat was choked, rendering her speechless.
After a long pause, she found her voice, "No need, I’m living well here."
That place wasn’t her home either.
"Your injuries haven’t healed yet; don’t be stubborn," Cyrus Hawthorne furrowed his brows, "Mom is also worried about you."
He said his mother, Laura Quinn, would be worried about her? Who would believe that!
If Ann Vaughn couldn’t tell by now that he feared any harm to her body would impact the heart swap with Cynthia, she would be foolish.
He was willing to lower himself this much for Cynthia. Follow current novels on NovᴇlFirᴇ.ɴet
Seeing Ann Vaughn still refusing, Cyrus Hawthorne glanced at the small clinic behind her, his tone carrying a faint threat, "If you don’t want this place to disappear by tomorrow, it’s best to be obedient."
"You..." Ann Vaughn was suddenly caught at her weakest point, completely losing her defense.
She was well aware that with his influence in The Imperial Capital, making a little-known clinic disappear was a simple task.
Upon returning to the Hawthorne Family, Laura Quinn was watching TV in the living room. Ann Vaughn didn’t have the heart to greet her and went straight upstairs.
Yet she suddenly heard Laura Quinn say, "Cian, when you go up to Cynthia, remember to take the chicken soup I’ve just made for her. She needs more nourishment because she’s not well."