The Ugly Healer: The Only Prescription Is Her Comeback

Archie hesitated for a beat before his voice came through, tight with panic. "Babe, what's going on? Why do you want to break up all of a sudden? If I messed up, I'll make it right. Please, just tell me what I did."

Without another word, Eleanor ended the call.

She quickly erased every trace of him from her phone—his number, every message, everything. Then she headed straight for home in a taxi.

Stepping inside, she didn't waste a second. Every one of Archie's things went straight into the trash.

She stopped at her dresser and yanked open the drawer, staring down at the so-called gifts he'd given her over the years—a pile of origami hearts he'd folded on her birthday, a ring made out of grass from a Valentine's Day that felt hollow now, and a handful of cheap plastic snowflakes from a Christmas Eve walk that was supposed to be romantic.

Once, these little tokens had felt precious to her. Now they seemed almost cruel in how little they meant.

A three-year relationship, and Archie never gave her anything real—just cheap souvenirs.

Meanwhile, she'd spent nearly three million just to bail him out over and over again.

Laughing softly, Eleanor swept the whole lot into the garbage can, not a trace of regret on her face.

Suddenly, her phone blared, the ringtone shattering the silence.

Eleanor fixed her gaze on the glowing screen, knuckles blanching as she gripped the device.

A moment passed before she finally answered the call.

Her adoptive father, Hank Harris, wasted no time, his voice harsh and commanding. "How much longer are you planning to sulk? Get yourself home right this instant!"

"Go home so I can be your precious daughter's stand-in bride?" A bitter smile played on Eleanor's lips. "That brute from the Carter family can tear me apart if he snaps. Do you really think I'm that gullible, Mr. Harris?"

The line crackled as Hank exploded, saying, "Eleanor! Watch your tone! I'm still your father!"

"Father? That's funny." Her voice dripped with disdain. "You're only a father to Jordyn, not me. The day you tossed me out, you made that perfectly clear."

Hank's frustration boiled over. "You never stopped fighting with Jordyn! If you didn't keep making trouble for her, maybe we wouldn't resent you so much!"

Cold resolve colored Eleanor's answer. "I wasn't the one picking fights. Jordyn just couldn't stand having me around. Now that I'm out of your house, you can stop blaming me for everything she does."

She knew all too well how Jordyn Harris twisted every situation to her advantage, while the rest of the Harris family turned a blind eye, choosing to believe whatever lies Jordyn spun.

Hank cut in, sharp and unyielding, "That's enough! We took you in and raised you. Don't think you can just walk away whenever it suits you. You ungrateful woman!"

"You didn't take me in out of kindness. You only adopted me because Jordyn and I share the rare golden blood type." Eleanor's tone turned steely as she spoke. "From the time I was thirteen, every time she needed blood, you just took it from me. I lost count of how many times I blacked out from all the transfusions. Not once did anyone bother to check if I was all right. I owe your family nothing. I refuse to be branded ungrateful."

A derisive huff sounded from Hank. "If you weren't useful, we never would've brought you in. Enough of this—three days, that's all you have. Come back and marry into the Carter family for Jordyn. That's final."

She didn't waste time arguing about the past. "If you want me to take Jordyn's place at the altar, I want twenty percent of Harris Group's shares or one hundred million in cash. That's my price."

He yelled, "A hundred million? Why not just ask for the whole world while you're at it?"

Eleanor's answer was flat, unwavering. "I won't be a stand-in for Jordyn unless you pay for it. Mr. Harris, if you can't spare the money, let Jordyn marry into the Carter family herself."

With no hint of hesitation, Eleanor ended the call and turned her attention back to sorting through her belongings.

Her gaze brightened as she glanced over her collection of pharmacology notes, toxicology references, music scores, and jewelry sketches spread across the desk.

All those years in the Harris family's house, every formula for skincare and scar removal, every piece of jewelry she dreamed up, and every melody she wrote—all of it had been stolen and handed over to Jordyn as if it was never hers at all.

Free from the chains of the Harris family and no longer obligated to sacrifice for Archie, Eleanor finally felt ready to let her true self shine and take charge of her future.

She took a deep breath, collected her thoughts, and began packing. As she rummaged through her bag, her fingers brushed against something unexpected—a pocket watch.

"A pocket watch? How did this get in here? I don't remember picking it up."

Right then, her phone rang with a call from the hotel reception. "Hello, ma'am. A highly esteemed guest of our hotel lost a pocket watch somewhere on the premises. There's a reward of one million for whoever returns it or provides information."

The mention of the reward made Eleanor's eyes widen, especially with the burden of her debts looming. "One million?" She stared at the pocket watch, hope rising in her chest. "I did find a pocket watch. I'll be right there to return it."

After ending the call, she slipped on a mask, grabbed her bag, and caught a cab straight to the hotel. At the front desk, she offered up the pocket watch.

"I found this earlier today and thought—"

Suddenly, a strong hand reached out, wrapping around both her wrist and the pocket watch.

Startled, Eleanor looked up, meeting the cold, penetrating stare of a man.

Austin's gaze was cold as he gripped her hand tighter. "Where did you get this? Did you sneak into my suite?"

Before she could protest, he reached up and pulled down her mask.

In a rush of panic, Eleanor turned her face away, desperate to hide the birthmark she was sure would disgust him.

Austin gripped her chin and tilted her face toward him, eyes narrowed with suspicion. The lighting in the hotel room last night had been too dim for him to recognize her clearly, leaving him uncertain if this was the same woman.

As he leaned in, Eleanor's senses were overwhelmed by the sharp scent of chemicals on his clothes and the sight of a fresh bandage across his brow. Her blood ran cold. Was this the same man from Room 1619—the one who had nearly assaulted her? Had she taken his pocket watch by mistake, slipping it into her bag without realizing?

Pain shot through her jaw and she flinched, struggling to pull away. "Please, you're hurting me. Let go of my face. I—I only picked up the watch from the hotel lobby. That's all."

Austin's stare hardened. Without loosening his grip, he shouted at the receptionist, "Show me the lobby footage. Now."