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Here’s a more polished version of Chapter 84: Last in Academic Performance:
Chapter 84: Last in Academic Performance
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows, casting a warm glow inside the clinic. Before Wynter had even woken up, the usual lively atmosphere had already settled around her.
Wolf had entered her room twice, eagerly gesturing beside her bed, but she didn’t bother opening her eyes. It wasn’t until Margaret called her, her voice filled with mild concern, that Wynter stirred.
“Wynter, it’s Thursday today. Why haven’t you gone to school?”
With a sigh, Wynter finally sat up, rubbed her eyes, and slowly tidied herself up. Even without makeup, her fairness and beauty were evident as she walked out. “There aren’t any classes in the morning,” she replied, stifling a yawn.
Margaret seemed to see right through her, her eyes softening with concern. She let out a long sigh. “If you’re struggling with your studies, you can always tell me. It’s okay. I heard from Susan that there’s extracurricular tutoring available. How about signing up for one?”
Wolf, who had been listening, glanced at her with playful amusement, clearly interested in her reaction.
Wynter smiled, casually tying her hair into a ponytail. Her tear mole became more visible now that her hair was out of the way. “There’s no need for that. I can learn on my own.”
Margaret still seemed worried. She lowered her head, searching through her outdated phone. “But you came last in the exam last semester. Your teacher said if your grades don’t improve, she wants to meet with me. I might have to find a tutor for you. I heard Victor’s grandson is doing well in his studies—I’ll call him over.”
Margaret was already dialing the number.
Just then, the wind chime by the door rang, signaling the arrival of a patient. Wynter looked up and saw him—the handsome patient she hadn’t seen in three days. He was dressed in an elegant, tailored suit, his tall frame exuding a dignified presence.
He looked at her with a raised eyebrow and a small smile, as if to ask, “You’re in last place?”
Wynter was speechless, but she didn’t feel embarrassed. Margaret, ever the considerate one, wouldn’t let her be embarrassed in front of her friends. “You two can chat here. I’ll go into the room to talk to Abel.”
With that, Margaret left, still talking on her phone.
Wynter, however, remained calm. She raised her chin slightly and gestured toward the door. “Come in.”
Dalton entered, followed by Ethan, who was still processing the revelation. Dr. Genius—with her impressive medical expertise—had come last in her exams?
As Wynter couldn’t explain things clearly at the moment, she decided to steer the conversation elsewhere. “Why haven’t you been here for the last two days?”
Dalton cleared his throat, his voice tinged with the scent of medicine. “I’ve been a bit busy.”
Wynter’s eyes narrowed slightly as she studied his face. “You haven’t had a good rest.”
Before Dalton could reply, Ethan jumped in. “He didn’t go to bed until 5:00 am last night! He’s coughing today and hasn’t been feeling well!”
Dalton gave him a cold look, and Ethan immediately fell silent.
Wynter yawned, her exhaustion evident. “As a patient, you need to rest well so your immune system can recover.”
Dalton played with the beads on his bracelet, his gaze lifting slightly. “You seem to need more rest than me.”
Wynter stretched out lazily on the recliner. “Yes, I’m really sleepy. Someone’s been chasing me in my dreams, and I don’t know why they have so much energy.”
She couldn’t help but wonder how Mr. Yarwood wasn’t tired, given how late he’d stayed up with the Special Operations Team.
Ethan scratched his head, trying to make sense of the situation. Mr. Yarwood was chasing someone in real life, and she was being chased in her dreams—what a coincidence.
Wynter didn’t think much of it. After a few moments of silence, she listened to Dalton’s steady breathing before reaching out to check his pulse. She furrowed her brow slightly as her fingers brushed his wrist.
Her touch was sudden, but Dalton didn’t flinch or pull away. They were so close now that he could see the small mole by her tear and the faint flutter of her eyelashes as she concentrated.
Dalton had never been this close to anyone before. It was strange—he felt different, almost as if something had shifted inside him since meeting her.
