When Chloe arrived at the hospital, the doctor examined her injuries, then helped her sit in a wheelchair and handed her a stack of test slips.“Once your family pays the fees downstairs,” he said kindly, “you can head up to the second floor for the scans. When you’re done, come back up so I can give you the next diagnosis.”Chloe lay still, the forms clutched loosely in her hand. She didn’t move.The doctor paused, then asked, “Where’s your family?”“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I don’t have any family here in Riverton.”Her voice was hoarse, soft but raw. Wet strands of hair clung to her cheeks, dripping rainwater onto the hospital gown.Just then, someone grabbed the handles of her wheelchair and began to push.Startled, Chloe turned around and met a pair of dark, unreadable eyes.The man didn’t speak. One hand gripped the wheelchair firmly; the other held a phone pressed to his ear.He wore a long black coat over a perfectly tailored charcoal suit, his tall frame radiating q
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