Chapter 17 Different Treatment

Joyce had a gentle smile on her face. However, the determination and decisiveness in her eyes gave away her answer.

"Never." She sounded so sure. "No one can ever understand the relationship Tyler and I have."

Jean froze, dumbfounded at her words.

Joyce had a sort of calmness and certainty in her voice. She didn't even hesitate to give her the answer. She wouldn't have the courage to speak like that if she wasn't confident in their relationship.

Perhaps there was something between the two of them that Jean never had. Her hands balled briefly into fists at her sides before she quickly let them go.

Joyce lay on the bed and stared at her in silence. "Jean, thank you for helping me save my marriage for all these years. When I'm better, we can swap back our identities. If you want to study abroad or start your own business, I'll definitely give you my full support."

"Okay." Jean nodded. Her reply was brief because she didn't know what else she could say.

Joyce sensed that Jean was feeling rather down and said, "I'm a bit tired now. You should go home. Don't forget to tell me if you face any problems."

Jean nodded and stood up. Then, she left the ward.

Once Jean was out of sight, Joyce's expression darkened. It seemed to her that Jean had fallen for Tyler. She gripped the edges of the bed and pulled herself up to sit.

When Dorothy returned, she saw Joyce struggling to sit up and rushed to help her. "What happened? Do you feel sick?"

The look on Joyce's face was nothing short of murderous. She swept a glance at Dorothy and spat, "Once I'm better, I want Jean to disappear from my sight for good." Her eyes burned with rage and hatred.

However, Dorothy assumed that Jean had said something that angered Joyce. Her expression shifted as she told Joyce, "Did that brat piss you off?"

Joyce scowled. She didn't answer the question but continued to force herself off the bed to stand beside it. When her feet touched the floor, she walked slowly and painfully. She placed one foot before another. Suddenly, she began to fall forward.

Dorothy immediately noticed and rushed forth to support her. "Don't worry. You'll surely get well someday."

Joyce glanced down at her feet as angry tears slid down her cheeks. "How can I not be worried? Do you expect me to start worrying only after Jean completely takes over my identity?" she roared.

Dorothy was stunned and could only look at her cautiously. She said, "She won't do that. She doesn't have the guts to do that."

Joyce was furious. She yelled, "What makes you think she won't? Do you not love me anymore because I was unconscious for the past three years?"

Dorothy hastily shook her head. "Joyce, nobody can replace you in my heart," she assured her. "If Jean ever tried something like that, I'd definitely teach her a lesson."

"I'm glad to hear you say that, Mom," Joyce said between sobs. "I was just too anxious. On the account of everything I've done for our family, please forgive me."

It was Dorothy's turn to tear up. She nodded again and again, "I'm not blaming you. It's all our fault for putting you in such a difficult position." In Dorothy's heart, Joyce was like another version of her. One that would help her achieve her dreams.

In the field of music, Joyce was a prestigious piano prodigy. It gave Dorothy a sense of pride that she had never had. Besides, Joyce was ambitious and yearned for improvement more than Jean ever had. So, Dorothy had put all her hopes and effort into raising Joyce.

As for Jean, she had a weak constitution from birth. Dorothy had sent her off to the countryside when she was young. There wasn't much of a connection between them. Jean wasn't as outstanding as Joyce. Naturally, Dorothy didn't find her that likable.

Those were the reasons the twins had received different treatments despite being born from the same womb.