Chapter 23
The crowd immediately took Jennifer’s side, hurling accusations at Yesenia.
“How can someone so young be this cruel? What a waste of a pretty face.”
“We just can’t judge a book by its cover. Having a good look doesn’t mean anything. She’ll reap what she sows.”
“Even a pet would show gratitude after being raised for so long. She’s ungrateful.”
“Imagine her own children treating her this way someday!”
Two elderly women even blocked Yesenia’s path, righteousness burning in their eyes.
“Young lady, this isn’t how decent people behave. She raised you. That counts more than blood!”
“Exactly! Apologize to your adoptive mother and her daughter right now!”
Cornered, Yesenia turned around.
Jennifer stood triumphantly, hands on hips. “You ungrateful wretch, now what?”
Yesenia laughed coldly, “Your daughter got exposed for plagiarism, and that’s my fault? Did I force her to steal my designs?
“Save your gratitude speeches. The Carsons did nothing but keep me
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breathing while your daughter was living like a princess with my actual family.”
As she spoke, Yesenia smiled, her eyes filled with undisguised mockery.
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“Speaking of which, your daughter lives a much better life at my house than at yours. Otherwise, she wouldn’t still be reluctant to leave my family. Mrs. Carson, you’re so protective of your daughter. But does she dare call you ‘Mom‘ in public?”
Every word cut Jennifer deep.
Jennifer stood dumbstruck.
Since when had this wretched girl become so sharp–tongued?
Sylvia had warned about Yesenia’s transformation, but Jennifer never took it seriously.
Those two years away had really changed her a lot.
Jennifer retorted in outrage, “That’s because my daughter is caring and sensible! Even without blood ties, she deeply cares for her adoptive parents.”
“Oh…” Yesenia raised an eyebrow, stalling with a sarcastic tone. “Her adoptive parents raised her with care, so she cares about them but not her biological parents. By that logic, if my adoptive parents hadn’t cared for me, why on earth would I feel obligated to care for them?”
“You…” Jennifer felt a suffocating wave of anger rising inside her.
The bystanders who had been criticizing Yesenia now finally grasped the situation.
It wasn’t the young lady who was being heartless, but this foster mother
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who wasn’t doing her job properly.
Her polished manners and clean–cut appearance spoke volumes. Meanwhile, this so–called mother kept snarling “ungrateful wretch“.
No wonder she kept her distance.
Sensing the change, Jennifer limped forward, determined to drag Yesenia to Sylvia.
But before she could even touch Yesenia’s hand, she was stopped by the two middle–aged women.
“Ma’am, you’re completely in the wrong here,” one woman scolded. “Instead of properly raising your child, you blame her for everything? The fruit never falls far from the tree. You should examine your own
behavior first!”
Jennifer’s eyes bulged.
After spending a fortune on beauty maintenance, these women actually called her “Ma’am“?
Despite her decade of wealth, Jennifer’s vicious temper surfaced instantly.
“This is my family business. It’s none of your concern! Go mind your own business!” she shrieked.
The women, battle–hardened from years of public disputes, immediately recognized Jennifer’s true nature.
“You asked for our opinion, ma’am, and now you deny it? No wonder neither your biological nor adopted daughter wants anything to do with you. You deserve it!” they retorted.
To Yesenia, they said kindly, “Go ahead, young lady. We’ll handle
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this.”
Yesenia nodded gratefully. “Thank you.”
As the crowd surrounded the fuming Jennifer, Yesenia strode away unhindered.
Yesenia slipped into the women’s restroom and reemerged ninety seconds later, now clad in a black long–sleeved shirt, matching face mask, and a baseball cap that revealed only her piercing eyes.
She took the elevator to the director’s office, entering unannounced. Startled, the director gaped as Yesenia lowered her voice to a husky whisper, “I’m Wren Serrano. I need to speak with Dr. Chaney about a collaboration.”
Ten minutes later, all the doctors from the Nephrology Department had gathered in the director’s office.
The director, Roderick Chaney, flushed with excitement as he said to Yesenia, “Ms. Serrano, these are all the doctors from our Nephrology Department.“‘
He turned to address the doctors present, “This is the renowned Ms. Wren Serrano. She’s proposing a new collaborative project with our hospital due to our excellent facilities and expertise. I expect your full cooperation.”
Amidst the astonishment of the crowd, Yesenia spoke slowly, “I have an artificial kidney transplant program and am seeking young, non- acute patients. Your hospital’s Nephrology Department is nationally renowned. Do you have suitable candidates? I’ll cover all expenses and personally oversee post–op recovery.”
A murmur spread through the room.
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Roderick rapped the table. “Speak freely. Ms. Serrano welcomes your input.”
One doctor stood abruptly. “How many trials has this artificial kidney undergone before human use?”
“Over a thousand live trials with a 90% success rate,” Yesenia responded.
The doctor scoffed, “Only 90% and you dare proceed? Who takes responsibility when it fails? You? Don’t get us into trouble.”
Yesenia remained composed. “The remaining 10% involved preexisting genetic conditions in test subjects, not experimental error.”
The critic fell silent, unable to counter.
From the crowd came a sudden remark, “Actually… we do have one perfectly eligible patient currently hospitalized.”
Roderick immediately asked, “Who?”
“Sylvia Mosley in the supreme ward.
***
At the Wyatt Edifice’s penthouse, Jayvion was mid–videoconference when Emanuel burst in uncharacteristically flustered.
Muting the call, Jayvion raised an inquiring brow.
“Mr. Wyatt,” Emanuel remarked urgently, “Wren Serrano has shown up at Kraitburgh Central Hospital!”
Jayvion’s grip tightened on his wheelchair. “Intercept her. We’re leaving immediately.”
