The Second Life of a Discarded Heiress novel Chapter 626

All of this proved beyond a doubt—Citrine really had been given another chance at life.

Which meant everything Raymond said was true.

“It’s my fault, all of it. If it weren’t for that dream, I might never have realized just how much my daughter suffered.” Hilda’s voice trembled, her heart torn between guilt and aching sorrow.

Raymond glanced at her, his expression gentle but restrained. In the end, he shared what Citrine had asked him to say: “Hilda, when Citrine was in the ambulance, she called out for you—she called you ‘Mom.’ She asked me to tell you… she never blamed you. Not once.”

Hilda’s eyes were already red, but now, at his words, they brimmed over with tears.

Raymond could tell she’d heard him, so he repeated softly, “You heard me right.”

“She… she really forgave me?” Hilda turned away, wiping her cheeks with a shaking hand and trying to collect herself.

Raymond paused, then said, “You never really understood Citrine, Hilda. She acted tough, but her heart was softer than anyone’s. If someone showed her the slightest kindness, she’d remember it forever—she’d pay it back tenfold if she could.”

“Even if she never said it out loud, she forgave you long ago. Or maybe, the moment she realized you never meant to abandon her, she stopped blaming you at all.”

After all these years, Raymond knew Citrine’s stubborn, loyal nature better than anyone.

“She was afraid you’d be left with regrets. She was afraid she would be too. That’s why, in the ambulance, she made me promise to tell you this.” His voice caught a little as he spoke, grief tightening his chest.

“My Citrine—my sweet girl…” Hilda’s composure finally broke, and she sobbed openly, the pain from the visions in her dream cutting deeper than any knife.

Her eyes hardened with resolve, and she spoke each word carefully, her anger steady and cold. “I’ll make them pay—every last one of them.”

But before she could go on, Raymond interjected, his brow furrowed. “I’m afraid that’s not possible anymore.”

“Why not?” Hilda stared at him in confusion.

Raymond answered on the first ring. “Is the surgery finished? How’s Citrine?”

There was a long pause on the other end, then Manley’s deep, grave voice: “You need to come. Now. There might still be time—”

Raymond’s face drained of color. He didn’t wait for the rest. He hung up and took off running.

Hilda realized something was wrong and hurried after him.

They raced through the hospital corridors, breathless, not stopping for even a moment, until they reached the doors of the operating room. Raymond grabbed the doctor by the collar, desperate. “When will she wake up? Tell me—when?”

The doctor, still in his white coat, looked stricken. He hesitated, then finally managed to say two words, heavy as stone:

“I’m sorry.”