Don't Mess with the Girl with Candy novel Chapter 801

“You can leave now. I’m starting the consultation.”

“Leave?” Warren Sherwin’s nerves tightened instantly, his eyes fixed warily on the renowned Nocturne.

“Is there a problem?” Juniper paused, her hand hovering over her bag, and shot back without hesitation. “If you want my help, you play by my rules. If not, you’re free to find someone else.”

Warren was speechless. He finally stood up, but as he left, he noticed Celine Sherwin’s eyes were still glued to the doctor's face, her expression one of intense fascination, as if she were looking at the most interesting puzzle in the world.

The door to the main hall closed. Juniper glanced around, her eyes catching the subtle movement of a security camera.

“Tsk.” With a soft chuckle, she pulled a small velvet cushion from her bag and placed it on the table. She looked at Celine and said, “Roll up your sleeve and put your wrist here.”

“Oh, okay.”

Celine was surprisingly obedient, doing exactly as she was told. While Juniper took her pulse, Celine’s round eyes stared straight at her. Then, out of nowhere, she spoke. “Doctor, I know you.”

Juniper’s hand flinched, and she instinctively glanced at the camera. It was aimed directly at her, so Warren couldn’t see Celine’s face or hear what she was saying.

Juniper pretended not to hear and continued to focus on taking her pulse.

“You’re Juniper,” Celine said again, leaning in closer with an excited grin spreading across her face.

“Ahem.” Juniper’s fingers trembled slightly. A wave of panic hit her, but she quickly forced herself to remain calm. How on earth did Celine recognize her?

“I saw you on the screen,” Celine continued, her face beaming. “I watched it on my husband’s computer.”

Juniper was at a loss for words again. So when Celine said she’d seen her, she meant on the Liberty Island security feed, not on the internet.

Juniper’s eyelashes fluttered with a hint of embarrassment. She had mistaken the woman for a fan.

“Your pulse is quite erratic,” Juniper murmured, standing up. She reached a hand toward Celine’s head.

Just as her fingers were about to make contact, Warren burst back through the door.

“There’s a lot Celine doesn’t know. You should be asking me,” he said, his jaw tight as he stared daggers at her.

“Fine, you talk,” Juniper said with a glance in his direction, not bothering to argue. Celine was, indeed, an unreliable narrator.

“Celine was an orphan. It’s possible she experienced some kind of major trauma that stunted her mental development. Her emotional intelligence is that of a six-year-old.”

An orphan? Juniper looked over at Celine, who was beaming at her, and her brow furrowed slightly. Poor thing.

“Let’s do a blood test,” Juniper said, her lips pressed into a thin line as she took a blood collection kit from her bag. “I have to map her genetics to rule out any underlying physical conditions.”