When The Family Reads The Fake Heiress Mind novel Chapter 347

Still, that wasn’t something Jean needed to worry about.

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Two days later, she visited Edgar’s home again for Kelly’s scheduled treatment. After several rounds of therapy, Kelly’s condition had drastically improved.

She still couldn’t stand on her own, but the muscle atrophy had significantly cased. She was already able to begin using rehabilitation equipment.

It wouldn’t be long now before she could put paralysis behind her. After leaving Edgar’s neighborhood, Jean stopped by a nearby bakery.

The colorful cakes displayed behind the glass instantly lifted her mood. Yep, life really wasn’t complete without desserts. Without cake!

Jean ordered a slice of tiramisu and a cup of fruit tea. Then she took a seat by the window, her gaze instinctively drifting around the shop-

In the seat diagonally across from her sat a familiar figure.

Jean blinked, caught off guard, and stared a few seconds longer than she meant to.

Before long, the boy seemed to sense her eyes on him. He lifted his brows slightly.

Their eyes met–suddenly and without warning.

Jean pressed her lips together, a bit self–conscious.

Dalton, on the other hand, curved his lips into a soft, relaxed smile.

“Wanna sit with me?” His eyes were clear and unclouded, and his voice as crisp as a cool spring. “There’s room over here.”

Dalton… had just invited her over.

As if under a spell, Jean somehow ended up sitting beside him.

Only when she got closer did she notice the middle–aged man in a suit standing next to him.

His assistant, maybe? Or a bodyguard? Jean didn’t ask. She glanced at Dalton again and saw that he was still in his wheelchair, the original chair pushed aside.

For some reason, a pang of sympathy rose in her chest. Such a good kid… what a shame he’s stuck in a wheelchair at such a young age.

“Mr. Dalton, she…” The man beside him hadn’t yet figured out what was going on. He looked at Jean, then back at Dalton, and spoke with some hesitation. “She is…?”

Jean couldn’t help commenting inwardly. Well, damn. We’d only met once before, barely even talked–and now we were friends? Or was this just because of Winston?

His voice was like a gentle breeze. Jean gave a half–truthful, half–playful reply, “I was wondering if we’ve met before

What got to her about Dalton wasn’t just the mysterious connection between him and her brother It was also his voice.