Chapter 8

An hour later, I found myself in the orthopedic emergency room at Riverdale University Hospital.

A kind-looking elderly doctor with snow-white hair carefully examined my arm. He nodded toward the refined man standing beside him. “It’s a dislocated shoulder.”

The man responded with a calm hum. “Dr. Reed, your expertise in orthopedic realignment is renowned. Could you help her out?”

Michael Reed gave him a meaningful glance, chuckling. “You rascal, always using my goodwill to score favors.”

Turning his attention to me, the doctor gently rotated my arm and asked, “Young lady, did this troublemaker hurt you?”

I shot a quick glance at the man before shaking my head vigorously. “No, no! It’s not like that. I… I don’t even know him.”

Michael chuckled knowingly. “Don’t know him? Then why was this troublemaker so worried about you?”

Heat rose to my cheeks as I recalled how I had clung to the man’s suit jacket earlier, bawling my eyes out like a child. Feeling embarrassed, I dropped my gaze.

With a sharp pop, my shoulder suddenly eased.

Before I could even react, the pain was gone.

I stood up, cautiously moving my arm. “It doesn’t hurt anymore?! How is that possible?”

Michael smiled kindly. “Move it around some more. It’s fine now—all set.”

I stretched my arm tentatively, rotating it in a small circle.

Sure enough, there was no pain at all.

Beaming with gratitude, I bowed deeply. “Thank you so much, Dr. Reed!”

I wasn’t oblivious. This kindly old gentleman was none other than Riverdale’s renowned orthopedic specialist. His skills were sought after by the city’s elite, with countless people vying for his time.

Despite his renown, Michael was known for his compassion. Most of his weekly appointments were reserved for regular patients, and he charged only one dollar per consultation.

Over the course of his fifty-year career, he had treated tens of thousands of complex cases without ever straying from his principle of healing rather than profiting.

Securing a special appointment with him was nearly impossible.

As I processed all this, my gaze shifted to the refined man standing quietly nearby, his smile calm and steady.

He looked to be about twenty-seven or twenty-eight—older and far more composed than Julian.

The man stood tall in a sleek charcoal-gray suit, its impeccable tailoring accentuating his lean and perfectly proportioned frame. His features were refined and elegant, with a pair of half-rim glasses resting on the bridge of his straight, prominent nose, further highlighting his deep-set eyes and composed demeanor.

As he exchanged pleasantries with Michael, his every movement radiated an air of effortless grace and self-assurance.

I used to think Julian was the most handsome man I had ever laid eyes on—sharp, commanding, and unyielding, a man who could cut down gods and demons alike with sheer determination.

But this man was a completely different kind of striking.

If Julian was a blade—sharp and unyielding—this man was a masterfully crafted oil painting, exuding elegance and balance in every detail.

Julian could wield his presence like a sword that chilled an entire province; this man exuded a quiet strength as if the world bent gently to his will.

It was hard to say who was more handsome, but at that moment, I found myself drawn to the man’s warmth and composure.

Between sentences, he glanced in my direction and asked suddenly, “Miss White, are you feeling any other discomfort?”

Caught off guard, I froze for a moment. My instinct was to shake my head, but after a pause, I nodded instead.

Michael frowned slightly. “Let me take a look. Don’t ignore minor injuries. They can turn into bigger problems.”

I reluctantly revealed my bruised lower back and swollen ankle, and finally let him check the back of my head.

Michael examined me with meticulous care, his expression turning graver with each passing second.

As he worked, he muttered to himself, shaking his head. “Goodness, this young woman has so many injuries. Her lower back was almost fractured; it’s slightly misaligned. I’ll need to realign it. The ankle—thankfully, it’s just a sprain.”

He paused at the back of my head, his brows knitting tightly.

“Now this…” His tone turned sharp, startling me.

“Young lady, do you have no regard for your own body?”

I jumped, stammering, “I—I didn’t mean to—”

Michael cut me off, clearly irritated as he scribbled down prescriptions. “You’ve got a hairline fracture in your skull and swelling in your brain. Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?

“If the swelling doesn’t go down, the increased cranial pressure could kill you. And yet here you are, dislocating your shoulder in a fight. Truly, I’m at a loss for words.”

He continued grumbling under his breath, his pen flying across the prescription pad.

His stern lecture made my eyes sting with unshed tears. I bit my lip, feeling both chastened and overwhelmed.

I hadn’t realized just how serious my injuries were.

Before my memory loss, when I was hospitalized, Julian hadn’t visited me even once. And that insufferable assistant of his had rushed me to leave as soon as I was well enough to stand.

The more I thought about it, the more the injustice settled heavily in my chest. My head hung low, and I stood by Michael like a child caught misbehaving.

The refined man beside me broke the tense silence with a calm, gentle voice. “Dr. Reed, don’t be angry. She probably had no idea how serious her injuries were when she left the hospital. No one does this kind of harm to themselves on purpose. Who in their right mind would let themselves get this battered and not immediately seek help?”

Michael finished writing the prescription, his expression softening slightly.

When he noticed my watery eyes, he quickly added in a soothing tone, “There, there. Don’t cry, young lady. You already cried enough earlier to alert the entire department. Let’s not have another round now, alright?”

He shot the man a pointed look. “You troublemaker, take her to get her treatment and therapy sorted. And make sure she comes back for physical therapy sessions on her back for the next three days—I’ll oversee it myself. Otherwise, she’ll end up with long-term problems.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” the man replied hastily, grabbing my arm to guide me toward the treatment room.

The moment we stepped out of the consultation room, both of us exhaled in unison, a shared sense of relief.

That was terrifying! Who knew Riverdale’s most renowned orthopedic specialist could be so intimidating when angry?

I glanced at the man beside me, guilt bubbling up. “I’m sorry... um… I forgot to ask your name.”

Embarrassment crept up as I fiddled with my fingernails, nearly scraping them raw.

A light chuckle sounded above me. “You don’t remember me?”

“Huh?” I looked up, startled, confusion etched across my face. “No… I really don’t. What’s your name, sir?”

The man smiled faintly, his gaze unusually soft. “I know your brother, Nicholas. When you were little, you used to call me Woody.”

Woody?

I froze, my mind completely blank.

Memories from my childhood surged back like a tidal wave.

I vaguely recalled a period when my brother had a tall, lean boy with gold-rimmed glasses constantly by his side.

That boy was quiet, speaking softly even when he did talk. His aloof demeanor had kept me at bay, no matter how curious I was to befriend him.

I remembered my brother mentioning his last name. Was it Wood?

That was when I cheekily nicknamed him Woody.

Tentatively, I asked, “Woody? Is that you?”

The man smiled gently and extended his hand. “My name is Miles Wynn. My last name isn’t Wood.”

Oh.

My face heated in embarrassment as I quickly reached out for a polite handshake. “Nice to meet you… and I’m sorry about earlier...”

Before I could say more, it was my turn to receive treatment.

I gave Miles an apologetic nod before hurrying into the treatment room.

When I emerged later, my shoulder was tightly wrapped, the bandage slung across my neck like an oversized bow.

I couldn’t help but chuckle at my ridiculous appearance.

With the ointment in hand, I stepped out and was met with the sight of Julian standing impatiently outside.

He spotted the bandage on my shoulder and froze for a moment before his expression darkened into a cold scowl.

Julian strode toward me, his hand outstretched as if to grab me.

I instinctively stepped back, panic rising. “Stay away from me.”

He stopped in his tracks, his frustration evident as he bit out, “Evelyn, go apologize! Rossie said she wouldn’t call the police if you just apologized.”

His tone was laced with irritation. “All you ever do is cause trouble. Can’t you go one day without stirring up drama?”