Chapter 539:

Her gaze slipped past him to the masked young man at his side. His face was unreadable, yet his eyes carried a storm of emotions—hatred, shock, despair, and the faintest trace of confusion.

“And who might this be?” she asked, already certain of the answer.

Rory hesitated, then stepped aside. “This is Zander Russell. Severe lye burns damaged his vocal cords, and he missed the best window for treatment. I just examined him.”

His words held the regret of a professional, not the grief of someone personally invested. For a doctor accustomed to loss, an idol’s ruined singing career was unfortunate, but far from unbearable.

A thought seemed to strike him. Turning to Rylie, he gestured toward Zander. “You might be able to help him.”

“You have a way?” Zander’s voice rasped, each syllable strained. “Then why did you destroy my voice at the concert?”

The accusation, jagged and raw, cut through the air, leaving the room in heavy silence.

Rory’s expression hardened, as did those of the other specialists.

“Young man,” Rory said sharply, his tone carrying a weight rarely heard from him. “Mind your words. That’s a baseless charge.”

A silver-haired doctor added, cold and precise, “Unless you have proof, keep such claims to yourself. Rylie is one of the most respected in our field—she saves lives, not ends them.”

Rylie didn’t flinch. Her calm face betrayed neither anger nor fear. She even tilted her head slightly, her eyes steady on Zander. “You believe it was me?”

His gaze fell to the floor. “Everyone told me… you stalled my treatment. My voice is gone. Elaine’s forcing me out of the group.” A bitter laugh escaped him.

Her reply was cool. “You’re a friend of my brother, Deandre. Why would I ever harm you?”

Find more books at gⱯlnσν𝓮ls․com

“Brother?” Zander’s head snapped up. “So you’re his sister?”

Rory stepped in before Zander could speak further. “Rylie is the Owen family’s daughter—their pride. She’s also a rare medical talent. Tell me, why would she bother crushing someone like you? For amusement?”

A hollow laugh escaped Zander, his gaze drifting. “Lately, the pain’s been constant—I don’t even know who to trust anymore.”

Her attention sharpened. “You said Elaine is pushing you out of the group?”

He gave a short nod.

Her brow lifted. “Which hospital handled your case?”

“Gracewell Private Hospital,” he answered.

She moved closer, extending her hand. “For my brother’s sake, I’ll help you. Give me your card with your number, and I’ll reach out when it’s time for treatment.”

His eyes widened. “You…?”

“You want your voice back or not?” Her tone stayed flat. “I can restore it.”

Beside her, Rory’s face brightened. “You can repair trauma this severe? Rylie, let us observe when you do. We could learn from it.”

.

.

.