Rebirth Into My Second Chance

Dr. Hilton made his way from the rooftop to the surgical ward, and as he did, several doctors and nurses greeted him warmly. "Morning, Dr. Hilton."

That was when I realized his last name was Hilton. It struck me then. Gabrielle's maternal family bore the same name.Content bel0ngs to Nôvel(D)r/a/ma.Org.

But according to Gabrielle, they were all businesspeople, with the Hilton family's patriarch being a business prodigy, an unbeatable force in the business world. He was Claude's idol and uncle.

Looking at Dr. Hilton, barely in his early thirties, politely nodding to everyone in his path, he didn't seem to fit the bill of Claude's Uncle Max.

Upon entering his office, he swiftly locked the door behind him, which startled me momentarily before I remembered I was nothing but a spirit to him, invisible.

He shed his white coat for a sleek navy suit and adorned his cuffs with diamond cufflinks. With methodical precision, he put on a minimalist watch. After straightening his collar in the mirror, he pinned a wheat stalk brooch to his lapel.

Then, he expertly tied a tie, securing it with a tasteful tie clip. The transformation was seamless, and looking at him in the mirror, his sharp features and the dignified air about him were undeniable.

I had always thought Claude, with his rimmed glasses, possessed a charming, almost enigmatic allure. But with his upright demeanor and chiseled features, Dr. Hilton was the epitome of nobility, as if he were dressed not in a suit but in royal robes, ready to rule gracefully. I couldn't help but be captivated.

Had we met before? I would remember someone as striking as him.

As he headed out of the office, he pulled out a photo from his coat, which he cautiously tucked inside his suit jacket, near his heart.

I was puzzled, wondering when I had encountered this man.

He drove a modest car to the Hart family mansion. Was he there as one of the esteemed guests for Gabrielle's birthday? No wonder he dressed so sharply, probably to impress Claude. My opinion of him soured slightly. Anyone seeking to curry favor with Claude couldn't be good news.

Claude's legal victories often

enriched capitalists, and by winning

their cases, he reaped substantial

profits. So, probably, a doctor

seeking Claude's legal expertise

wasn't a good sign.

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Crossing my arms, I skeptically watched Dr. Hilton as he retrieved a carefully prepared gift box from the glove compartment.

So, the seemingly upright Dr. Hilton also relied on gifts to strengthen his social ties.

Upon entering the mansion, my spirit wandered off, losing track of Dr. Hilton.

Being familiar with the mansion, I went to the kitchen first to see if Lydia and the other staff were preparing the feast for the guests.

But Lydia was nowhere to be found. I remembered she got dismissed from the Hart family for allegedly selling security footage to the media, a claim I still struggled to believe.

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"Claude, the party's about to start, and there's still no sign of Claire," Gabrielle's voice caught my attention from the back garden, her concern for me evident. Gabrielle had always had a soft spot for me.

"Mom, she's probably just enjoying herself too much," Claude replied, attempting to light a cigarette before thinking better of it in Gabrielle's presence.

"Something must have happened to Claire. If you don't call the police, I will," Gabrielle said, reaching for her phone.

"No need. Richard has reported her missing. He seems quite concerned about Claire," Claude reluctantly admitted, emphasizing Richard's concern for me.

Gabrielle slumped into a garden

chair, her worry palpable. "I've been

praying for Claire's safety these past few days. Claude, if anythingo

happens to her, it's on you

Without a word, Claude lit his cigarette, the tension between them thick as Gabrielle, supported by a servant, retreated into the living room.