Where Petals of Vengeance Bloom novel Chapter 309

Hospital.

Accompanied by May, Claire underwent a battery of tests, head to toe.

She handed the results to the doctor—a grizzled physician with over thirty years of experience, whose face grew more somber and whose brow furrowed deeper with every page he read.

When Claire finally stepped out of the exam room, her eyes were empty, her face drained of life. It was as if someone had simply reached in and stolen her soul, leaving only a hollow shell behind.

The doctor’s words still echoed in her ears, every sentence a knife twisting deeper into her heart.

“You’re so young—how did your body end up in this condition?”

“You’ve suffered from chronic malnutrition, severe anemia, and years of old injuries. Your body’s been running on empty for a long time.”

“And with one kidney missing, your system’s even more fragile. The resulting deficiencies have already started wearing down multiple organs.”

May’s voice trembled as she asked, “Doctor, if we find a matching kidney and she’s well cared for, can my Miss Claire recover?”

The doctor shook his head. “This isn’t something a transplant and good nutrition can fix. The years of damage have caused irreversible harm to several organs.”

“And her hearing… If it were just a ruptured eardrum, we might be able to repair it. But her auditory nerves are damaged—nothing we do will restore her hearing, not even a cochlear implant. Prolonged deafness may also affect her ability to speak.”

“As for her leg, even if we were to break and reset the bone, she’ll never be fully healed. At best, she might walk without a limp, but she’ll never be able to run.”

The doctor went on, each word landing like a heavy blow.

Claire understood, in a flash of cruel clarity—no matter how you cook it, once meat is done, it can never return to its raw state.

No matter what treatments she tried, this broken body of hers would never be whole again.

She realized she’d never be able to marry and have children like other women. She might not even be capable of intimacy.

“Doctor, with my condition… how much time do I have left?”

The question was heavy, but Claire forced herself to ask.

“With careful management, maybe four or five years.”