Chapter 862 A Sudden Revelation
In truth, a pang of hunger gnawed at Cherise’s stomach.
The ordeal of last night’s car ride had sapped much of her energy.
She pressed her lips together and instructed, “Pop it in the fridge for me; I’ll eat it when I
return.”
With a concerned glance, Frances slipped two packets of hot milk into Cherise’s bag. fearing she might grow famished on her way.
Cherise sipped on the warm milk, exiting the manor while settling into Mr. Kolson’s car.
Thirty minutes later, the vehicle pulled up at the research institute.
Just as before, upon stepping out of the car at the institute’s entrance, Cherise noticed her colleagues‘ furtive glances and hushed murmurs.
The unresolved plagiarism issue cast a pall over her interactions.
These silent judgments weighed heavily on Cherise’s spirits.
She hastened towards Heather’s usual workspace, milk in hand.
Heather had mentioned earlier that Mr. Whitlock sought to speak with her, prompting Cherise to head straight for his office.
As she approached within twenty meters of the door, Cherise caught the sound of a woman sobbing from within.
She barely registered the first cry.
But the second one jolted her to action.
It was Heather’s voice!
Hastily, she rushed forward, flinging open the director’s door!
The sight that greeted her shook Cherise to her core.
Heather lay on the bed, stripped to her shirt, while Yolanda, clad in white, sat nearby, delicately puncturing Heather’s blisters with a needle and holding disinfectant.
Mr. Whitlock stood at Yolanda’s side, offering ointment with a respectful smile.
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The shricks that had echoed earlier had been Heather’s cries as her blisters were lanced!
“What on earth are you doing?”
Even Cherise’s usually composed demeanor cracked at the sight.
Only then did Yolanda deign to acknowledge her presence, her tone icy, “I’m attending to
her wounds.”
Gritting her teeth, Cherise watched Heather’s distress, unable to suppress her anguish, “Attending to her?”
“Indeed,”
Mr. Whitlock interjected eagerly, brandishing the ointment, “This is the special balm Ms. Weiss procured. It promises to heal wounds within a day!”
“Precisely,”
Yolanda affirmed, accepting the ointment from Mr. Whitlock and dabbing it onto Heather’s punctured blisters with a cotton swab. “It’s better to endure brief discomfort now than prolonged agony later.”
“These blisters will rupture eventually; it’s best to lance them now for quicker healing.”
As she tended to Heather’s injuries, Yolanda turned her gaze towards Cherise, a hint of mockery and challenge dancing in her ink–colored eyes. “As a doctor yourself, you understand, don’t you?”
“And it’s not just about physical ailments…”
She elegantly lifted her head as she spoke, her ink–colored eyes carrying a hint of mockery and provocation as she looked at Cherise. “The inevitable breakdown of a marriage is also like this.”
“Mrs. Lenoir, am I right?”
Cherise’s fists clenched at her sides.
She comprehended Yolanda’s implications all too well.
Rowena might have concealed her intentions beneath a facade of vulnerability.
Yolanda was different.
She wore her desires and confidence openly.
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Her resolute demeanor seemed to assert that Cherise and Damien’s marriage would inevitably crumble under her influence.
Cherise scoffed, “It seems Ms. Weiss is rather skilled at dismantling families.”
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