The hidden billionaire heiress (Lyra Melvin) novel Chapter 532

Lyra, who was dazed, vaguely heard the doctor and Malcolm's conversation clearly.

Intermittent amnesia?

Clichéd memory loss?

When she was 15 years old, Ethel injected a nerve-destroying drug into her neck and pushed her into the sea.

She had already lost her memory once.

The wound on her head was so easy to make her lose memory.

The doctor didn't tell the whole result at a time and liked to exaggerate this just to scare him.

Why was it the same as Micah? Did doctors like to intimidate their patients' families?

She sighed helplessly. Her eyelids were too heavy to lift. The injury at the back of her head was still faintly painful, and she felt tired and dizzy

Lyra didn't make a sound and continued to rest with her eyes closed.

When the doctor left, the ward returned to silence.

Malcolm clutched her hand so tightly she could visibly feel he was trembling.

And he shook quite a lot.

Within two minutes, very soft sobs came and droplets of water dripped down onto the back of her hand.

Malcolm was crying?

She was baffled. She was still breathing. How was it like she was dead?

As the hot teardrops continued to fall onto the back of her hand, her heart felt as if it was being burned, followed by a vague pain.

She broke the bonds of exhaustion and half-squinted her eyes open to look at Malcolm who sat at the head of the bed.

Malcolm's eyes were red. His dark eyes looked sad and mournful, and his handsome face was covered with tears, which were desperate to the extreme.

It was the first time she had seen his expression of near collapse.

She moved her fingers in a weak manner, and Malcolm immediately sensed it and raised his eyes to her.

"Rara, you're awake. Is there anything else wrong? I'm going to call the doctor."

He made a move to get up, but Lyra held his hand back.

Lyra looked weak and tried to say, "... you?" Why was he crying so hard?

Her body was so weak that her complete sentence was reduced to one word.

Malcolm stared at her in shock for half a second, keenly seeing the questioning meaning in her eyes.

He had no time to be surprised but fell back into deeper despair.

His tears fell down uncontrollably. He dropped his head, laid his forehead on the back of her hand, and whimpered.

"You really...lost your memory. How can you forget me. How can ..."

Lyra: "?"

"We got through all the hard times we had. We have two cute little babies. How can you forget ..."

She looked helplessly at the man in front of her, who had always been calm and unruffled. He could actually crouch at the side of her bed crying. He was tall but he curled himself up and looked short

His crying was pathetic and desperate.

It was the first time she had seen Malcolm who lost control like this, and she really scared him.

She sighed and toughened herself to coax him, "Don't cry. I didn't, didn't lose my memory."

At the sound of her voice, Malcolm lifted his sad eyes, still holding doubts inside.

He sniffled, wiped his reddened eyes, and asked, "And who am I?"

Lyra laughed, "My husband."

"What's my name?"

"Malcolm White."

To reassure him, Lyra answered quickly, not daring to hesitate for a moment.

Malcolm's doubt was reduced a bit and he gradually calmed himself down.

He went on to ask, "And what is the name of the baby boy we have?"

"Spencer White."

"The baby girl?"

"Molly Lloyd."