Chapter 10 Have Dinner Together
“M-Mr. Pruitt, we take orders from Elva. That’s all. She ordered us to get the room ready for her! We simply followed her order! We knew nothing!”
Winford didn’t care about his previous wives, and Glenda was very fond of Elva. The two servants figured that buttering Elva up would do them good, so they were bold enough to toss Ophelia’s stuff out. They had never expected things to turn out like this!
After all, Winford had always been indifferent to everything.
Their clumsy excuses were laughable.
Winford didn’t even spare them a glance. He tilted his head and said to Graham, “Ask Bertha to deal with them.”
Graham nodded.
Realizing they were doomed, the two servants regretted it so much.
On the contrary, Ophelia felt so sweet. She trotted over, took over Graham’s job by pushing Winford’s wheelchair, and asked, “Where were you today?”
Alfred chimed in, “Mr. Pruitt’s business remains confidential. Mrs. Pruitt, it’s better if you stay out of it.”
His impression of Ophelia was terrible because of what had happened to Elva.
Ophelia tried her best not to roll her eyes in front of him and said straightforwardly, “So, you know I’m Winford’s wife? Who says you get to interject when I’m talking to him?”
“You…”
“Enough,” Winford said coldly, the warning in his tone unmistakable.
Alfred immediately shut his mouth.
Ophelia snorted and raised her chin at Alfred triumphantly.
Alfred pulled a long face.
But she didn’t care. Instead, she turned her attention back to Winford, wanting to know what he had been up to earlier.
But Winford didn’t answer her. He just said, “Go back to what you were doing. Graham can wheel me to the study. I have things to do.”
He sounded patient and gentle, but it was also obvious that his decision was beyond dispute.
Seeing Graham take over the wheelchair again, Ophelia felt a bit down, knowing she hadn’t entirely gained Winford’s trust.
She didn’t dare to ask further. Winford was very keen, and the last thing she wanted was for him to suspect her of being up to something.
She decided to drop it for now. She had ample time, and the person who would betray him and cost him a leg in the future hadn’t shown up yet, so she assured herself not to worry too much.
But…
As Winford was about to go into the elevator, she caught up with him.
“Honey…”
The wheelchair stopped, and he turned around. “What’s up?”
“Can we have dinner together?” She looked at him with anticipation in her eyes, and even her voice was coquettish.
She hated sitting in the dining room and eating alone; she wanted to share a meal with him.
Winford looked at her, not responding at once. Then he nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Don’t go back on your word!” she smiled brightly.
His stern expression softened a bit. “I won’t.”
Watching him enter the elevator, Ophelia walked upstairs briskly.
Thanks to Winford’s instructions, her bedroom was soon restored. As she reached upstairs, she happened to see Elva walk toward the guest bedroom with her stuff in her arms and a sullen face.
Elva saw her, too. Sneering, Elva walked over and was about to say something.
Ophelia beat her to it, saying unhurriedly, “Think carefully before you say anything to me. If I’m upset because of your words, I have every right to kick you out. After all, I’m Winford’s wife, and you’re just a maid’s daughter.”
Elva was choked on her words. “You…”
“Me what? Move. You’re blocking my way. Didn’t Bertha teach you to read the room?”
Elva was utterly furious.
But Ophelia didn’t give a damn. She walked toward her bedroom.
Just then, she heard Elva’s malicious voice behind her.
“You really think Mr. Pruitt is that into you? I’ll wait for the day you get ruined.
“I’m so curious. Will you be sent to a psychiatric hospital or carried out by an ambulance?”
Ophelia squinted.
Elva thought her words got under Ophelia’s skin and walked away quickly, feeling great.
Ophelia went back to her room thoughtfully.
Winford had three wives before her. One was dead, one ended up crazy, and one was taken back by her family before she set foot in Sunset Vista.
It was the same in both her past and present lives. Yet, even now, she still had no idea what had happened to those first two women.
Rumor had it that Winford was a psycho who did that to them.
But she didn’t believe it.
Winford was nothing of that sort.
As she thought of the truth she had learned before her death, her heart arched bitterly.
She opened her suitcase and set aside the things she had brought back from the Greene’s house. Finally, she took out the locked box, entered the right password, and retrieved the medical notes.
To be precise, it wasn’t just Harriet’s notes. There were also many lost prescriptions that had been existing for years, and that was why many people were eyeing these notes.
There were two copies of the notes. Ophelia had one, and the other was at her grandfather’s place. Harriet had wanted him to safeguard numerous assets for Ophelia, including Sapphire Botanical Institute which Ophelia had always longed for.
However, in her past life, she had never had any of those things till the day she died.
She flipped through the notebook. As her gaze fell upon one prescription, she suddenly thought of someone.
It was Clinton Weaver, her teacher in her past life.
Clinton and his wife had had a boy late in life, and they doted on him a lot. Unfortunately, the boy had been born with an incurable illness. Despite Clinton’s desperate efforts, he still hadn’t been able to save his son.
Clinton was a leading authority in the medical field, but he could do nothing but watch his son die. It was a huge blow that almost collapsed him.
The prescription recorded in Harriet’s notes could have saved Clinton’s son. However, by the time Ophelia read about it, his son was already gone. It became Clinton’s greatest regret.
At this moment, Ophelia was so glad again that she had been reborn.
She immediately took a photo of the prescription.
Just then, she stopped—she didn’t know Clinton’s number.
She had met Clinton on a medical forum in her past life.
In this life, it wasn’t time for her to meet him yet, but she presumed his account had already existed.
Her eyes lit up as she quickly searched for the forum, registered an account, and looked up.
She found his account!
As she was about to send him the photo, she stopped.
It seemed too obvious.
Clinton’s son was sick, and she—a stranger in Clinton’s eyes, happened to send him a prescription that could help? It’d make her seem nothing but suspicious.
Pondering, she took photos of two other prescriptions and sent them to Clinton, saying she wanted to pick his brain on them.
Clinton’s account on this forum was famous, and a lot of people sought his guidance every day. She was sure she wouldn’t look suspicious by doing this.
Setting down her phone, she was about tohop in the shower when her phone started blowing up with messages.
C.W. texted her, “Where did you get those prescriptions?”
Before she could reply, C.W. sent her, “Could we meet?”
At the same time, Clinton clutched his phone, waiting for Ophelia’s reply eagerly, ignoring his wife who was urging him to eat.
His wife was puzzled. “Clinton, what’s wrong?”
“Finally… Chad can be saved!” Clinton was excited. “You don’t have to prepare those things anymore!”
His wife widened her eyes, her voice trembling. “Really?”
They had been quietly making funeral arrangements for their son, Chad Weaver, ever since learning his illness was incurable. And now, Clinton told her she didn’t have to make any preparations anymore!
Meanwhile, Ophelia pondered for a while and then turned down Clinton’s request.
For now, she had a lot of things to do.
But she was confident that in the near future, she’d become Clinton’s student once again through her own merits.
