Chapter 600 The Truth of the Test Results
A flash of astonishment crossed Yvette's face, quickly followed by undeniable joy that she couldn't suppress.
Could her illness finally be cured?
The thought exploded in her mind like fireworks, illuminating her previously dim spirits.
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, bright as stars breaking through storm clouds—a radiance that had been absent for countless sleepless nights. Her lips curved into a brilliant smile, warm and luminous as spring sunshine, the kind of expression she'd only dared to dream about in her darkest hours.
Her heart skipped several beats, but this time with pure elation. It felt like glimpsing dawn after endless darkness, like discovering an oasis in a barren wasteland.
She was healed—she could reclaim everything she'd once taken for granted, could stay with Albert, BoBo, and CiCi forever!
"Yes, I'll take excellent care of myself!" Her voice trembled with barely contained emotion.
Albert watched her luminous eyes and unbridled excitement, his own emotions surging. He stepped forward and pulled her into his arms, holding her tight.
Feeling his warmth envelope her, Yvette finally felt truly at peace. If only they could remain this happy forever.
When Albert and Yvette returned home, BoBo and CiCi had already been brought back by the staff.
The children burst from the house at the sound of their arrival, their small faces radiant with joy.
"Mommy, Daddy!"
Yvette's heart overflowed watching her children. Their innocent faces gave her strength more potent than any medicine. She knelt to their level and embraced them both.
"Sweethearts, we couldn't pick you up today. Are you upset with us?"
BoBo shook his head earnestly. "No, Mommy. You have your own things to do. CiCi and I don't want to be trouble."
CiCi giggled mischievously. "Mommy, BoBo was actually a little disappointed today, but he held it in. I saw everything!"
Yvette ruffled their hair gently. "You can always tell me how you feel. You're never trouble."
BoBo smiled shyly. "Okay, Mommy."
Just as Yvette was about to take them to play, her phone buzzed twice. She glanced at the screen—a message from Clifford.
Clifford: [Can we talk?]
Unease crept through her chest. She pressed her lips together and looked up at Albert. "I need to use the restroom quickly."
"Of course. I'll take them to play." Albert nodded, already turning toward the children.
Clifford's message sent Yvette's newly lifted spirits plummeting. She bit her lower lip nervously and typed back: [Yes.]
The moment she hit send, Clifford's typing indicator appeared and stayed active. He'd been waiting for her response.
A sense of foreboding washed over her as she took a deep breath, waiting for his reply.
Clifford: [I have your real medical report.]
Yvette's breath caught, her chest tightening with pain. So her clean bill of health was a lie—Clifford had switched her results?
The realization hit her like a physical blow, her emotions spiraling into chaos. The back-and-forth messaging felt unbearably slow, each second stretching her nerves thinner.
She dialed his number immediately. "It was you?"
Her ragged breathing carried through the phone line.
After a brief pause, Clifford's voice came through quietly. "Yes."
"How is that possible?" she whispered.
"The hospital Mr. Valdemar took you to belongs to my brother's family. He knows about our... situation." Clifford's tone was careful, measured. "So your report came to me. Mr. Valdemar doesn't know."
Yvette fell into stunned silence.
"I know you don't want to tell Mr. Valdemar about your condition," Clifford continued gently. "Otherwise he wouldn't have ambushed you with that hospital visit. But if you want him to know, I can arrange it."
"What do you mean?" she asked reflexively.
"If you're willing to tell him, I'll have the doctor explain that there was a system error—that he received someone else's results by mistake."
Yvette blinked in confusion. "Clifford, what do my real results say? Is my condition still that bad?"
Several seconds passed before he finally answered. "Yes. Nothing's changed. I'm sending you everything now."
Her phone buzzed repeatedly as the files came through. She looked down at the cold, clinical diagnosis, and her fragile peace shattered instantly.
Her supposed recovery had been nothing but Clifford's elaborate deception to protect Albert from the truth. Her illness had never improved—the medications were merely masking symptoms, providing no real healing.
Yvette's face drained of color, her eyes filling with helplessness and despair. The sensation was like plummeting from a sunlit peak into an endless abyss, the sudden impact nearly unbearable.
Clifford's soothing voice reached her through the phone. "Yvette, don't lose hope. The fact that there are medications to control your condition means there's still hope. We have to keep believing, okay?"
Yvette's gaze dropped, her heart sinking into dark depths.
"My numbers are still poor, but they're better than before," Clifford continued gently, his voice crackling through the connection. "The medication is working! Do you have enough pills left?"
Still drowning in her emotions, Yvette didn't question how Clifford knew about her medication. "Yes, I have enough."
If she ran out, she could always ask Benjamin for more.
But why was Clifford improving while her body remained in ruins?
She couldn't bear to think further, managing only a bitter, defeated whisper. "Thank you."
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