Chapter 659

Harrison met Victoria's gaze steadily. "I've prepared this medication specifically for you. Take one pill daily, and sensation will gradually return to your legs. In time, you'll walk again."

Victoria's breath caught. "What did you just say?"

Never in her wildest dreams had she imagined Harrison would create medicine for her. The possibility of standing again had long been abandoned—a hope buried decades ago.

Eleanor, the maid hovering behind them, gasped audibly. "Ms. Harrison, can this truly work? Mrs. Victoria has consulted every specialist. Twenty-three years confined to that wheelchair... All doctors agreed her condition was permanent."

A faint smile touched Harrison's lips. "Permanent paralysis is already the worst outcome. What more do you have to lose? Have the pills analyzed if you distrust me. I'd expect nothing less from Falcon Enterprises' security protocols."

Victoria sat frozen, struggling to comprehend. That Harrison Sinclair—the woman she'd once scorned—would extend such mercy left her speechless.

Then Charlotte piped up with childish certainty, "Mama's the miracle doctor, Dr. Sinclair. If she says you'll walk, you will!"

Harrison adjusted her hold on their daughter. "Your paralysis resulted from childbirth complications. I diagnosed the root cause years ago but lacked one key ingredient. Now the formula is complete." She shrugged lightly. "Consider it a professional courtesy. No gratitude necessary."

Still reeling, Victoria opened her mouth but found no words.

With Charlotte balanced on her hip, Harrison turned toward the door. "We're leaving. Goodbye."

The little girl waved enthusiastically. "Bye-bye, Grandma!"

As their figures disappeared down the hallway, Eleanor trembled with excitement. "This changes everything! Dr. Sinclair has cured terminal illnesses—if she says you'll walk, it's guaranteed!" With shaking hands, she dispensed the first pill. "Take it now, madam!"

Victoria swallowed the capsule. Almost immediately, warmth blossomed in her chest, cascading downward like liquid sunlight. For the first time in twenty-three years, heat penetrated the icy numbness of her legs.

She gasped. "I... I feel something."

Eleanor clapped her hands. "Praise God! One pill daily and soon you'll—"

Tears spilled down Victoria's cheeks. She'd made peace with her prison of flesh and steel long ago. This fragile hope terrified her more than any prognosis.

"Don't mistake my words for flattery," Eleanor added quietly. "Ms. Harrison possesses genuine kindness unlike those society vipers—especially that Isabella Lancaster. No wonder Mr. Nathaniel remains obsessed with her."

Victoria stared at the empty doorway, silent.

Later at Rosewood Manor, she dialed Nathaniel's private line, only to reach Dominic.

"Mrs. Victoria, Mr. Falcon is in negotiations. May I relay a message?"

"Nothing urgent. Will he return tonight?"

"Afraid not. He's working late at headquarters."

"And his forehead injury?" Victoria's chest tightened remembering how she'd struck her own son.

Dominic hesitated. "The wound required stitches, but he refused painkillers. Said he deserved the discomfort."

Victoria's breath hitched. The pills in her pocket suddenly weighed a thousand pounds.