Chapter 13
Tamsin fell silent for a few seconds, then sighed. "Lucinda, you really are... beyond dutiful."
Her voice carried heartache. "Solsticex was your creation, but you know how grueling it is. The materials are hard to find, the process is complicated—every single pill is precious. All these years in the Wipere family, using it for Mrs. Wipere, using it for your grandmother—the money and effort you've poured in is incalculable. And the result? The Wipere family threw you out."
Lucinda didn't respond.
Tamsin continued. "All those years in the Wipere family—did Gemma ever look after you? Your grandmother is her own mother—did she ever care? If it weren't for you all these years, your grandmother would have already—"
"Tamsin." Lucinda cut her off.
"Fine, I'll stop." Tamsin wisely shut up, but couldn't help muttering, "I just feel you've been wronged."
Lucinda's gaze fell on the moonlight outside, voice soft. "Grandma was good to me."
Tamsin fell silent on the other end for a while before finally sighing. "Alright, I understand. I'll prepare the treatment course. Should I have it delivered tomorrow?"
"No need to deliver it. I'm visiting Grandma at the nursing home tomorrow. Have someone send it there."
"Okay. Be careful on the road."
Lucinda hung up and stood by the window, watching moonlight blanket the entire back garden.
The Wipere family.
For her, those matters were already in the past.
She only cared about the people who had truly been good to her.
Like her grandmother, Cleo Adams.
Three years ago, when Cleo fell critically ill, the entire Wipere family was helpless. She'd worked through the night preparing medicine and pulled her back from death's door.
Since then, Cleo's health had relied on her treatments and required long-term recovery care. Solsticex especially couldn't be interrupted.
Over the years, the money and effort she'd invested in the Wipere family truly couldn't be counted.
But Cleo was worth it.
That old woman would secretly slip her candy when Lucinda was little, would pull her into her arms when Gemma neglected her, would stroke her hair with rough palms and lull her to sleep night after night.
Just for that, she wouldn't let anything happen to Cleo.
As for Gemma—
Lucinda's lips curved slightly, the smile faint and cold.
That had nothing to do with her.
She lay on the bed and closed her eyes.
Tomorrow, she'd visit Cleo.
The next day, Lucinda opened her eyes and glanced at her phone. Six-thirty.
Her biological clock from the Wipere family hadn't adjusted yet. She woke right on time, more reliable than an alarm.
After washing up and heading downstairs, the living room was quiet. Valencia and Wesley were both out, and Francis had also left.
Only the sound of dishes clinking came from the dining room.
Dahlia sat at the table with a complete set of silver tableware before her.
The food on her plate was exquisite as art—black truffle scrambled eggs, smoked salmon, caviar canapés, accompanied by a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice.
"You're up?" Dahlia looked up, smile sweet. "Mom and Dad left early this morning. Something about a charity event they had to attend. Francis went to work too. He asked me to stay home and keep you company."
Lucinda made a sound of acknowledgment and sat on the other side of the table.
A woman in her forties emerged from the kitchen carrying a bowl of plain congee. She set it in front of Lucinda, tone flat. "Ms. Wipere, your breakfast."
Lucinda looked down.
The white porcelain bowl held watery plain congee with a small dish of pickled vegetables on the side. Compared to the lavish spread before Dahlia, it looked painfully shabby.
Dahlia looked at the congee, satisfaction flickering in her eyes, though her expression showed concern. "Lucinda, don't mind it. I told Uma—you just got back, your stomach probably isn't used to the food here. Over there... you must have been eating this kind of plain food, right?"
She paused, tone growing more considerate. "If you eat something too rich all at once, I'm afraid your stomach can't handle it. Have congee for a few days to adjust, then we'll slowly add other things."
Uma came over carrying a stew of royal jelly and placed it before Dahlia with a smile. "This was just made this morning. Drink it while it's hot."
Dahlia lifted the lid. The royal jelly had been stewed to crystalline perfection, releasing a faint sweet fragrance.
She stirred it with her spoon, tone casual. "Uma, remember—from now on, prepare Lucinda's breakfast on the lighter side. Mom and Dad have always worried about my health, saying I eat too much variety. They remind me every morning. Lucinda's been away so many years—her constitution definitely isn't as good as mine. She needs even more attention."
She scooped a spoonful into her mouth, movements elegant and composed, though her gaze kept drifting to Lucinda's face from the corner of her eye.
Uma stood beside her, attentively refilling Dahlia's tea. "You're so thoughtful. Mrs. Douglas specifically instructed me this morning—said your complexion hasn't been good lately, that the royal jelly must be stewed daily without interruption."
"Mom just worries too much about me." Dahlia shook her head with a smile. "I'm not that delicate."
She glanced at Lucinda again, gaze circling her face. "Lucinda, don't rush. Once your health improves, I'll have Uma make some for you too. This royal jelly was specially brought back from overseas by Mom. You can't buy it in stores—you have to order three months in advance."
Lucinda looked down at the bowl of plain congee before her and said nothing.
She set down her utensils and picked up her phone from the table, about to stand when movement came from the entrance hall.
"Cindy!" Valencia's voice preceded her footsteps. She hurried into the dining room, followed by Wesley and a middle-aged man in a white chef's uniform.
"Mom's back." Dahlia immediately set down her spoon, smile sweetening further. "Mommy, weren't you attending a charity event? How did you get back so quickly?"
Valencia didn't spare her a glance. Her gaze landed directly on the bowl of plain congee before Lucinda, brow furrowing. "What is this?"
Her voice carried displeasure. "Who prepared this for Cindy?"
Uma froze, then hurried forward to explain. "Mrs. Douglas, it was Ms. Dahlia Douglas who said Ms. Wipere just came back from there, that her stomach might not be adjusted, so she should eat light foods for a few days to recover..."
Valencia's expression darkened further.
She turned to Dahlia, tone still relatively gentle but eyes clearly unhappy. "Dahlia, your sister just came home and you're feeding her this?"
Dahlia's smile froze for a moment. She quickly explained, "Mommy, I was afraid if Lucinda ate too well all at once, her stomach couldn't handle it—"
"So you gave her plain congee?" Valencia's voice rose slightly. "She suffered for twenty years away from home. Now she's back and she still has to eat this?"
Wesley stood beside them without speaking, but his expression wasn't pleasant either.
Valencia took a deep breath and pulled forward the man in the chef's uniform behind her. "Cindy, I hired a nutritionist for you—a special consultant to the national team. From now on, he'll handle your meals exclusively. Eat whatever you want. Don't worry about adjusting to anything."