Chapter 3
598words
I assisted as usual, passing instruments when needed.
While turning, I "accidentally" slipped. The water cup fell from my hand, warm water splashing all over me from shoulder down.
"Oh!" I gasped, my clothes instantly soaked through, clinging to my skin.
"Madam, are you all right?" The doctor and nearby servants rushed forward.
"I'm fine, really—just a bit scalded." I waved dismissively, attempting to stand, my back turned toward them.
The silk fabric turned nearly transparent when wet, suddenly revealing the scar that stretched from my left shoulder blade all the way down to my lower back.
It was a hideous, raised scar from a severe burn—like some grotesque centipede sprawled across my otherwise smooth skin.
The room fell instantly silent.
Dr. Thompson stared at my back, his pupils contracting sharply, his face a mask of shock and disbelief.
"That... that scar..." His voice trembled.
I feigned embarrassment, tugging at my clothes to cover up. "I'm sorry to startle you. I had an accident as a child—a burn."
"No... that's not right!" Dr. Thompson stepped forward abruptly, clearly agitated. "That's no ordinary burn! That's a burn I treated with my own hands ten years ago! I remember it perfectly. The girl who brought Young Master Ethan to the hospital had this exact scar pattern!"
His voice rose with excitement.
"I remember while treating her, she sobbed that she'd never be able to wear pretty dresses again because of the scarring!"
I lowered my head, shoulders trembling slightly, my voice thick with tears.
"Dr. Thompson, you must be confusing me with someone else."
My denial sounded pathetically weak, even to my own ears.
Dr. Thompson grabbed Franklin's arm excitedly. "Franklin, look! It's the exact same scar! I couldn't possibly be mistaken! The person who saved the young master wasn't Miss Pamela—it was her! The current Mrs. Hawkins!"
Franklin's face drained of all color.
He stared at the scars on my back, then at my tear-streaked face, his lips trembling but unable to form words.
News of this revelation quickly reached Old Mr. Hawkins.
He summoned me, Franklin, and Dr. Thompson to his study, his expression thunderous.
"Tell me exactly what happened," he demanded.
Dr. Thompson recounted the events from ten years ago in meticulous detail, leaving nothing out.
Franklin added, "Sir, when Miss Pamela came to claim credit back then, she merely said she'd arranged for someone to take the young master to the hospital. We... we simply assumed..."
After listening, Old Mr. Hawkins closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.
He remained silent for a long while before opening his eyes again, his gaze settling on me with a complex mixture of emotions.
"Zoe, why didn't you come forward with this earlier?"
With teary eyes, I shook my head. "My sister forbade me from speaking up. She said she was the legitimate daughter of the Gray family, while I was just the bastard child. It would be better for both families if she took the credit. She threatened that if I ever told anyone, my parents would throw me out on the street."
I perfectly portrayed the humility, timidity, and desperate yearning for family acceptance of an illegitimate child.
For the first time, genuine sympathy flickered in Old Mr. Hawkins' eyes.
He heaved a deep sigh, his voice softening. "You've endured much, child."
He turned to Franklin. "Go. Bring Pamela Gray here immediately."
I lowered my eyelids, hiding the cold gleam of satisfaction in my eyes.
The real show was only just beginning.
