The General's Replacement Doctor Wife

Chapter Thirty-Six

"Good morning, Mrs. Ashbourne. How are you feeling today?"

The old woman sat propped against the pillows, a thin blanket draped neatly over her lap. She looked fragile, but there was nothing careless about her appearance. Her silvery hair had been arranged into a neat, voluminous coiffure with every strand seemingly in its proper place.

She had once told Olivia that she had a servant who came every morning just to do her hair.

If I'm going to die, I want to look beautiful.

Olivia had never forgotten those words.

But she had no intention of letting Mrs. Ashbourne die. She had been preparing for the old woman's upcoming surgery for quite some time. She had gone through her scans more times than she could count, reviewed every test, and made sure nothing had been overlooked. She wanted to walk into that operating room knowing she had done everything possible.

"I'm good, Dr. Hilton." Mrs. Ashbourne glanced toward the vase of fresh flowers on the bedside table. A smile curled on her lips. "Thank you for the flowers you've been putting in my room every morning. They look quite expensive. Do you own a flower shop?"

"No, Mrs. Ashbourne." Olivia smiled as she checked the monitor beside the bed. "They're just given to me."

"By one person?"

A faint warmth crept up her cheeks. She lowered her eyes, pretending to study the numbers on the screen. How was she supposed to explain that the flowers came from different men?

One bouquet would arrive in the morning, another by noon, and sometimes there would be another waiting for her when her shift ended. She had tried asking the nurses not to accept them, but somehow, the flowers kept finding their way to her.

Thankfully, there were far fewer of them now. At least they no longer filled her office or left her wondering where she was supposed to put another vase.

The corner of Mrs. Ashbourne's lips lifted to a smile. "I see..." she said, drawing out the words. "That's quite a lot of admirers."

Olivia bit her lower lip, unsure whether to laugh it off or hide behind the monitor.

Mrs. Ashbourne seemed to notice her discomfort and kindly changed the subject. "Anyway, I only learned yesterday from Dr. Wilson that you also came from St. Therese Orphanage, just like my granddaughter, Sarah."

"Yes." Olivia nodded. "We were actually roommates."

Mrs. Ashbourne's eyebrows lifted with curiosity. "How was she?"

Sarah was a really mean girl. The words nearly slipped from Olivia's mouth as the memory came rushing back.

She could still remember waking up one morning to find strands of hair scattered across her pillow. When she reached for her head, her fingers found uneven patches where Sarah had cut her hair.

The damage had been too bad for the nuns to fix. After several attempts, they had finally given her a boy's haircut. Olivia had refused to look in the mirror for an entire month. Even now, remembering it made a shiver run down her spine.

How was she?

If she started recounting everything Sarah had done to her, they would probably still be sitting there by nightfall. And that would only cover the first chapter of the nightmare that had been her childhood.

A small, humorless smile tugged at Olivia's lips. "She was... nice," she lied, the word feeling strange on her tongue. "We got along well."

"That's good. It must be nice to meet someone from your childhood again after all these years."