She Was Once A Doctor

"Do not sweat it, Mom," Serena said, her voice steady and even in the quiet room. She did not take her eyes off the man on the bed. "From here on out, I will carry this family on my shoulders."

Lenora paused in the doorway. She stared at her daughter for a long second, shook her head with a weary sigh, and stepped out, pulling the door shut behind her.

Silence settled over the bedroom. Declan glared up from the mattress. His hands gripped the worn blankets.

"Are you out of your mind?" he rasped. His jaw clenched tight. "What are you trying to pull here?"

He watched her every move. No one just dragged a paralyzed burden into their home out of the goodness of their heart. Not in this world.

Serena ignored his biting tone. She stepped closer to the bed and folded her arms. "The one who is out of his mind is you. I am here to fix it."

Without asking for permission, she pulled the blanket back. She reached down and began pressing her fingertips against his atrophied legs. She started at the ankles, her thumbs digging into the nerve points, testing his muscle reflexes with methodical precision.

Declan gritted his teeth, shifting his weight. "You know medicine?"

"Of course," Serena answered. She did not bother looking up. She moved her hands up to his shins, pressing hard against the deformed bone structure. "How else am I going to save you?"

She prodded his kneecaps, tracing the damage up to his thighs. Her touch was clinical, fast, and unerring. After a few silent minutes, she stepped back and pulled the blanket over his legs.

"Both your legs were crushed," she delivered the verdict, her tone matter-of-fact. "Severely broken in the past. They did not treat the fractures properly, and the nerve damage was ignored. That is why you are rotting away in this bed. Do not worry. I will cure you."

Declan let out a harsh, bitter laugh. It scratched the back of his throat. Three years. He had been a paralyzed invalid for three years.

"Do you think you are some kind of miracle worker?" he asked. The sarcasm dripped from his every word.

"Damn right I am," Serena replied deadpan.

Her master had been the greatest medical mind in existence, and she was his sole, secret disciple. Fixing a pair of misaligned, atrophied legs was child’s play compared to the horrors she had faced.

Declan scoffed, turning his head away to stare at the peeling paint on the wall. The idea of this village girl curing a profound, long-standing paralysis was absurd.

Serena checked his pulse one last time. "Tomorrow, I will arrange for a proper set of medical tests. Scans, bloodwork, a full examination. We will map out exactly what is going on inside those legs."

She stepped away from the bed. She still needed to figure out why Magnus insisted she save this specific man, but she would cross that bridge later.

Just then, the front door of the house banged open. Heavy footsteps and chaotic chatter filled the hallway. Her brothers—Brant, Tobias, and Quinn—had returned from the fields.

"Mom, is it true?" Brant’s booming voice carried easily through the thin wooden door of the bedroom. "The villagers are talking non-stop. They said Serena brought a crippled guy home. Does she have some kind of strange fetish for disabled men?"

Inside the room, Serena pinched the bridge of her nose.

"But hey," Brant continued without missing a beat, "if that is what she wants, we support her. I will take on some extra hauling jobs in town. I can earn enough to feed him."

Tobias chimed in, his boots thudding against the floorboards. "Brant is right. If he is her fiancé, it is our duty to take care of him. A little extra labor will not kill us."

"Yeah," Quinn added. "I can start fixing up roofs after my regular shift. We might not have much money, but as long as Serena is happy, that is all that matters."

Lenora’s voice softened. "I am glad you boys agree. Your sister has a kind heart. It is a beautiful contrast to Bianca. All Bianca ever did was complain about our poverty. She hated us for not having money. She always looked down on this family. Serena is a blessing. Extra work is nothing if it means keeping her safe."

Standing just inches from the closed door, Serena felt a rare, profound warmth bloom in her chest. The tension drained from her shoulders. During her past life with the Vance family, she had never experienced this kind of unconditional, protective loyalty. The Vances had treated her like a disposable tool, judging her worth by her utility and status. Here, in this run-down house, these strangers were willing to break their backs just to support a decision they did not even understand.

She rested her hand flat against the wood. I will carry this family on my shoulders forever, she vowed silently.

Miles away, the tranquil atmosphere of the Mercer family estate remained undisturbed.

Lush gardens framed the opulent mansion. Inside the sunlit parlor, Miriam Mercer sat in a plush armchair, holding a delicate bone-china teacup. A massive diamond ring glinted on her finger.

A servant rushed into the room, bowing low. The man’s chest heaved. "Madam Miriam, I apologize for the interruption. Bad news. A scout from the outskirt village just reported in. Mr. Declan has been taken away."

Miriam took a slow sip of her Earl Grey tea. She set the cup down on the mahogany table. The porcelain made a soft clink. She did not even blink.

"Did they say who took him?" she asked, smoothing an invisible wrinkle from her silk skirt.

"The woman claimed to be his fiancée," the servant replied, keeping his head bowed.

"The Montell family?" Miriam mused. A faint smirk touched her painted lips. "Who would have thought the impoverished Montells still valued those old ties."

She picked up her tea again. "Very well. If she wants to play the devoted fiancée, let her keep him. It is better this way. Let him stay out of sight and have his peace in the dirt."

The next morning, the bustling campus of the University of Kingsport teemed with students rushing to their classes. Serena navigated the crowded walkways, her expression calm, blending in with the sea of young adults.

"Girl, where have you been?!"

Elsie Dalton grabbed Serena by the arm and pulled her toward the shade of a large oak tree. Elsie’s eyes darted over Serena, scanning her from head to toe.

Serena let out a small smirk. "Life threw me into hell. I clawed my way back out. Consider me reborn."

Elsie rolled her eyes and shoved Serena’s shoulder. "Stop messing around. Seriously, you practically vanished off the face of the earth."

Serena’s smile faded. "I am not joking. I am Serena Montell now."

Standing under the tree, Serena laid it all out. She explained the shocking child swap, the truth about her bloodline, and her new identity. She detailed how the Vance family had turned their backs on her the second they realized she was not their biological daughter, choosing Bianca instead.

Elsie stood frozen, processing the avalanche of information. Her jaw dropped. "Who gets hit with drama like that in real life? But you know what? It does not matter. Real heiress or not, you are still my best friend."

Elsie stepped closer, her eyes blazing with fierce loyalty. "If those Vance bastards treated you like trash, just give me the word. Tell me how you want to ruin them. I will back you up with everything I have."

"There is no need," Serena smiled faintly. "I have my own plans for the Vance family. They are already standing on thin ice."

Before Elsie could reply, a sneering voice cut through the noise of the courtyard.

"Well, well. Look what we have here. If it is not the fake heiress herself. Tell me, Serena, how does it feel to go from riches to rags overnight?"

Serena turned her head. Caleb Winslow sauntered toward them, his hands tucked into the pockets of his expensive tailored trousers. He was the man the Vance family had arranged for her to marry. Now, he belonged to Bianca.

Back when Serena still held her elite status, Caleb had chased her like a desperate dog. She had rejected him every single time. Now, he looked at her with smug satisfaction.

Serena turned back to her friend. "Elsie, let's go."

She stepped forward, brushing right past his shoulder.

Caleb spun around and blocked her path. "Stop right there. I have something to say to you."

Serena stopped. She looked him up and down with blatant disgust. "Clean the gunk out of your eyes first."

Caleb blinked. He instinctively raised a hand and rubbed the corner of his eye.

Elsie burst into loud, ringing laughter, covering her mouth as her shoulders shook.

A flush of red crept up Caleb’s neck as he realized he had been played. His features twisted into a dark scowl. He ground his teeth together. "You think you can still mock me? Wake up, Serena. You are not the precious Vance daughter anymore. You cannot treat me like trash."

"Get lost," Serena snapped. Her tone was sharp and unyielding.

Caleb sneered, taking a deliberate step into her personal space. "What is with that attitude? Do not think I have not heard the rumors. Your new family is a bunch of dirt-poor pig farmers. I used to tolerate your arrogance because of your name. Now? You are nothing."

He leaned in closer. A vile, lecherous gleam appeared in his eyes. His gaze drifted down her body. "But, if you play nice and beg a little, I am willing to let bygones be bygones. I can set you up somewhere nice. I can keep you fed, keep clothes on your back. Be my mistress. What do you say?"

Serena did not flinch. She stared into his eyes. Her expression was a chilling, unreadable mask.

Under the weight of her deadpan stare, Caleb’s smug grin faltered. He shifted his weight. "What? Why are you staring at me like that?"

The corners of Serena’s lips curled up into a terrifying smile. "You have a lovely neck."

Caleb paused. The tension in his shoulders vanished, replaced by sheer arrogance. He reached up and stroked his collar. "Oh? Finally noticing how handsome I am without that heiress title blinding you?"

Serena let out a soft breath. "Yes. You have a very nice neck. It is just a pity that it is holding up the most stupid head I have ever seen."

The blood drained from Caleb’s face. "What did you say to me, you bitch?" he growled, taking an aggressive step forward. His fists clenched at his sides.

Elsie stepped right in front of Serena, glaring daggers into Caleb’s chest. "She said you have a nice neck, but it is a pity there is a stupid head sitting on top of it. Are you deaf? Let me repeat it louder for everyone on campus."

Caleb snapped his attention to Elsie. "And who the hell are you?"

Elsie lifted her chin. She looked down her nose at him. "I am Elsie. Elsie Dalton."

The name hit Caleb like a physical blow. Dalton.

The Daltons were royalty in Kingsport. Their immense wealth, deep-rooted influence, and sprawling corporate empire eclipsed the Winslow family by miles. Caleb’s family relied on Dalton Corporation contracts just to stay relevant in the upper echelons of society. He was staring face-to-face with the sole heiress of a dynasty that could crush him with a single phone call.

Caleb’s chest deflated. His bravado vanished into thin air.

"You..." he stammered, taking a step backward. He shot a nervous glance at Serena, shocked that a discarded fake heiress still commanded this level of high-society backing.

Humiliation burned in his chest. He spun on his heel and stormed off, spitting out a hollow threat over his shoulder.

"I will wait for the day you come crawling back to me on your knees."