Hera was unused to Gemma's friendliness and silently shook her hand off. She forced a smile. "Ms. Killian, it's been a while."
"Hera, you're being too distant. You should call me Aunt Gemma," Gemma said. After all, the maids at the Killian residence would usually call her Ms. Killian.
"There's no need for small talk. Let's talk about what you have in mind," Hera said calmly. She remained distant while asking to get to the point.
Seeing that made Gemma speak her mind right away without any more small talk. "Do you still remember Xavier? You used to play together often as children."
"Yes." The way Hera looked downward made her seem rather obedient. In reality, it was to hide the cunningness in her gaze.
"He's sick. The fever from more than ten years ago has caused damage to his brain, affecting his IQ. Now, he only has the IQ of a four to five-year-old. Could you help take a look at him and see if there's any way to treat him?" Gemma asked.
Hera did not answer immediately. Instead, she reminded Gemma, "People usually book appointments for treatment at my clinic. I usually don't do house visits unless it's inconvenient for the patients to move around."
Gemma was stunned. Her initial suspicion toward Hera's return to Jedburgh dispersed immediately.
"Alright, but could you still drop by? Just check on Xavier's condition and see whether he can be treated, alright? If yes, I'll ask someone to book an appointment, and I'll take him to your clinic for treatment."
Hera deliberately pretended to ponder over it for a while before saying, "Well, fine. I happen to have time, so let's go and visit him now."
Gemma was delighted. "Nice. Thank you." She closed her eyes and prayed sincerely. Afterward, she opened her eyes and said to the driver, "Arthur, let's go back home."
One hour later, the Rolls-Royce steadily arrived at the entrance to Xavier's residence.
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