The Drifter's Memoir of a Second Life

As the days passed peacefully and fulfillingly, I gradually became convinced that the Grants wouldn't ever cross paths with me.

That was until one day, when my assistant Claire knocked on my office door and told me, "Dr. Simpson? You have a consultation. It's a Mr. Harry Grant, who wants our most expensive specialist to examine his younger sister."

My heart couldn't help skipping a beat at the mere mention of that name, but I took a deep breath to compose myself and said calmly, "Show him in."

A tall, well-dressed man soon entered.

Though Harry's youthfulness seemed to have faded, his mature appearance was somehow more handsome and elegant.

Nonetheless, those dark, captiving eyes of his were filled with shock and disbelief when he saw me.

It was natural, as he could never have imagined that the medical expert he'd been desperately seeking for would be me, the little girl he had deliberately abandoned twenty years ago.

Still, he finally found his voice after a long pause, his tone clearly skeptical as he asked, "Y-You're Dr. Simpson?"

I nodded. "Please take a seat and tell me about your sister's condition, Mr. Grant."

He ignored me as he kept studying me. "Are you really a doctor? How confident are you that you can cure my sister?"

He was already treating me like I was a fraud, and that naturally left Claire indignant. She couldn't stop herself from snapping, "Mr. Grant! Dr. Simpson is the most decorated specialist working in this hospital, and her time is very valuable!"

As for me, I smiled ever so faintly at Harry and nodded. "It seems that Mr. Grant here doesn't have much faith in my abilities, so why don't we call off this appointment? Claire, please see him out."

Harry's face darkened instantly and gritted his teeth.

However, he ultimately stayed silent before turning and leaving, slamming the door shut along the way.

Claire was left stamping her feet in frustration. "Did you see that?! He's so rude! Who does he think he is?"

I smiled nonchalantly. "That's fine. He's just yet another privileged patient."

The entire exchange was completely trivial, now that the Grants were not involved in my life at all.

However, just as I was about to leave the lab entrance for the day, Harry ambushed me, his expression dark as ever.

I frowned as I asked, "What do you want?"

He stared at me silently and intently for a long while before snarling through his teeth, "I'm warning you, Yvie Grant—it doesn't matter who you are now, but don't even think of hurting Susie."

I almost laughed out loud.

Twenty years ago, he'd cruelly prevented my biological parents from taking me home.

And now, here he was, ambushing me off work, calling me Yvie, and warning me not to hurt Susie?

Whatever made him think I'd waste my time on someone like Susie Grant?

I looked at him incredulously like he was a nutcase making a scene. "For your information, my name is Ruby Simpson. If you'd like to address me, at least address me by the right name.

"As a doctor, I have taken the Hippocratic Oath to do no harm. Also, I don't know you, and certainly not some Susie—what reason do I have to hurt a complete stranger?"

Harry was left dumbfounded.

"You don't remember me?" he asked in disbelief, his voice shrill in turn. "Twenty years ago, at the orphanage, I stopped our parents from—"

He stopped mid-sentence, realizing just then that it was difficult to bring up what he had done.

My heart was cold even as I watched him avert his eyes in embarrassment.

Of course I remembered—the way he looked at me in disgust and every insult he slung at me before he finally abandoned me.

All my delusions of family affection vaporized right then, but I pretended not to remember.

I creased my brows as if it took me some effort to recall.

"Oh…" I suddenly gasped in realization, deliberately letting myself trail off before flashing an innocent smile. "So that was you—I'm so sorry, but like you said, it happened twenty years ago. It was so long ago that I've forgotten it. See, as I've accomplished so much important research work day after day, who has time to remember such… trivialities?"