Chapter 12

This family was truly generous with other people’s pain.
Seeing that Yvonne remained silent, Jeffrey chimed in.
“I’ve looked at your medical records. It’s a minor surgery. I’ll contact the best cardiac surgeon in the country to operate on you.” His tone was condescending, as if he were bestowing a great favor. He then added a warning, “And stop causing trouble. Try to learn from Queena and be a well-mannered young lady. I have no desire for a sister who is an unpresentable, embarrassing mess.”
Yvonne’s grip on her fork tightened, the veins on the back of her hand standing out in sharp relief.
When Queena had menstrual cramps, Jeffrey would act like the world was ending, rushing her to the hospital for a check-up. But Yvonne’s heart condition, which was serious enough to require surgery, was dismissed as a “minor” issue.
As the youngest attending physician at Central Hospital, Jeffrey could have easily verified that Yvonne’s heart condition was real, not an act. But he never bothered to check. He simply assumed she was lying. In the end, it was clear he just didn’t care about her.
“Are you all finished?” Yvonne looked up, her gaze sweeping over the Spencers. With a sharp crack, she slammed her silverware onto the table.
The next moment, she grabbed the edge of the expensive tablecloth and, without warning, yanked it with all her might.
The exquisite china, crystal glasses, and delicious food all went crashing to the floor. The dark gray marble was instantly covered in a chaotic mess.
Yvonne was no pushover like the original girl. If they wouldn’t let her eat in peace, she would flip the whole table.
The Spencers stared, utterly stunned. They never imagined Yvonne would dare to do such a thing. Four pairs of eyes were fixed on her in disbelief.
“Do you really believe that a maid would risk everything to switch my medication just because of some petty argument?” Yvonne’s tone was scathing as she looked at them as if they were fools. “I honestly can’t tell if the Spencer family is just deceiving itself or if you’re all genuinely this stupid.”
After she spoke, George’s face was still contorted with rage, as if he wanted to devour her whole.
Queena, however, avoided her gaze, her guilt palpable.
Teresa remained silent, her lips pressed into a thin line of displeasure.
Only Jeffrey seemed to be thinking, his brow furrowed in contemplation.
Yvonne wiped her mouth with a napkin and tossed the crumpled paper onto the table. She had no more words for them. She turned and walked up the grand wooden Staircase.
You can’t wake people who are pretending to be asleep.
Yvonne returned to her room. It was pitch black. She felt for the switch on the wall,
and the crystal chandelier flooded the room with light.
She tossed her jacket onto a small
sofa, kicked off her shoes, and
padded barefoot to the bathroom. After a quick shower, she emerged wrapped in a towel
led walked to
the window to retrieve the
nightgown hanging on
no
clothesline.
She had washed it that morning, but the thin fabric was still damp.
This north-facing room never saw the sun, and Yvonne found the constant dampness deeply unpleasant.
She would have to find a way to switch rooms.
After blow-drying her hair, she got into bed. Yvonne was adaptable; she could sleep soundly anywhere.
She slept until she woke naturally
the next morning. After getting
ready, She left her room to
find he
other Spencers already in the dining room for breakfast.