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Now reading: Chapter 467: The One Who Needs a Psychiatrist Is You from Mr. Warner, Your Wife is Running Away Again!, a Romance novel by The Beginning of Prosperity.

The doctor placed the dicine box she held on the shelf beside the bathtub, looking at Vanessa Sterling’s skin, which was already rubbed red by her own hands. If she continued, she might actually strip the skin off.

The doctor reached out and gently took the bath ball from Vanessa Sterling’s hands, crouching by the tub like a big sister, looking at Vanessa who still appeared sowhat frightened. She smiled gently and said, "Vanessa, don’t be afraid, you know I won’t hurt you, right?"

Vanessa looked at her, then glanced at the bathroom door where, through the frosted glass, she could see the silhouette of soone standing by the door. She knew it was Miles Sterling outside.

Seeing Vanessa press her lips together, looking like she wanted to say sothing but hesitated, the doctor smiled and said, "Vanessa, do you have sothing you want to say?"

Vanessa lowered her gaze, her voice very soft—not intentionally quiet, but weak from exhaustion, lacking the strength to speak: "Dr. Vaughn, I’m sorry to trouble you this late."

Dr. Vaughn sighed, looking at the bruises on Vanessa’s shoulder and back, her eyes filled with compassion. She had seen Vanessa in worse situations. All she could offer was temporary relief, nothing more: "Turn around, let check your injuries."

Vanessa wrapped a towel around her chest, obediently turning her back to Dr. Vaughn, speaking softly, "My arm hurts a little."

Dr. Vaughn gently held her left arm, observing Vanessa’s reaction, touching the joint, "It seems sprained. You should rinse off your body; don’t let the wound soak for too long or it might get infected. I’ll apply ointnt for you once you’re out."

Vanessa nodded, glancing at the silhouette still at the door, clearly wanting to speak but afraid Miles Sterling might hear.

Dr. Vaughn noticed this too, stood up, and said, "I’ll go fetch you so clothes."

With that, Dr. Vaughn opened the door and walked out. Miles Sterling stepped back slightly, taking the chance during the door opening to peek into the bathroom to check on Vanessa’s condition. But before he saw her, Dr. Vaughn shut the door again swiftly.

The two exchanged glances, Miles Sterling’s eyes silently inquiring about Vanessa’s state. Dr. Vaughn pointed her chin outside, saying to Miles Sterling without words in her eyes, "You should go out."

Miles Sterling stood silent for a couple of seconds before turning and walking out of the room.

Dr. Vaughn took a set of pajamas back to the bathroom, accompanied Vanessa to the bedroom, and let her sit by the bed.

While rummaging through the dicine box, Dr. Vaughn said to Vanessa, "He left, you can say whatever you want."

Vanessa glanced at the bedroom door, confird it was closed tightly, then spoke, "Dr. Vaughn, do you have... birth control pills?"

Dr. Vaughn paused, glanced at Vanessa, but refrained from asking further. While applying ointnt on her bruises, she said, "I’ll give you so in a bit."

"...Thank you."

Seeing such a gentle, sensible girl fall into the hands of soone like Miles Sterling made Dr. Vaughn truly feel for Vanessa.

Compared to before, Vanessa’s condition wasn’t as bad this ti; at least she wasn’t bleeding excessively and still able to speak to her with a clear mind.

Miles Sterling had been waiting outside for over half an hour before Dr. Vaughn finally erged from the room.

He removed the cigarette from his lips, holding it between his fingers, and after Dr. Vaughn closed the door, he asked, "How is she?"

Dr. Vaughn sighed, looking at Miles Sterling, "If you’re so worried about her, why did you help her end up like that?"

Miles Sterling frowned, his tone slightly annoyed, "Mind your own business."

Dr. Vaughn: "She said her arm hurts; I applied so ointnt and prescribed pain relief. But to be sure there’s no bone injury, it’s best to take her to the hospital for X-rays tomorrow. Although she appears not to have severe wounds, internal injuries can’t be ruled out. If you’re kind-hearted, you should have her undergo a comprehensive check-up."

Miles Sterling placed the cigarette back in his mouth, inhaling deeply, "Did she say anything to you?"

Dr. Vaughn: "She didn’t say much; she seed too scared to speak really. Don’t frighten her anymore, let her rest properly. It’s late, I should be going."

With that, Dr. Vaughn picked up the dicine box and headed towards the entrance.

Miles Sterling slowly exhaled smoke from his mouth and called out for Dr. Vaughn, "Wait a mont."

Dr. Vaughn stopped, standing in place, looking at him puzzled.

Miles Sterling stepped up to Dr. Vaughn, glanced towards Vanessa’s bedroom door, his voice slightly hoarse, asked, "Do you know any reputable psychologists? Preferably female."

Dr. Vaughn observed him, "I do."

Miles Sterling: "Have her co tomorrow to counsel Vanessa."

Dr. Vaughn smiled and nodded, yet said, "Mr. Sterling, actually I think the one who should see a psychologist is you."

Miles Sterling froze, Dr. Vaughn walked straight to the foyer, changed her shoes, opened the door, and before leaving, said to Miles Sterling, "I’ll send you her contact information later."

Watching the door close, Miles Sterling stood motionless in the living room, the cigarette between his fingers continued to burn slowly.

Not wanting to overthink Dr. Vaughn’s words, he turned to look towards Vanessa’s bedroom door, stepping towards it, his hand resting on the doorknob, but he stopped.

Recalling Dr. Vaughn’s previous words, "Don’t scare her anymore," Miles Sterling’s movents stiffened, then he slowly withdrew his hand and walked away.

He no longer wished to see the fear and defensiveness on Vanessa’s face whenever she saw him.

The night streets were sowhat desolate, the bridge that was congested by day now had few vehicles.

The benches by the riverbank were mostly empty, occasionally two or three couples sat by the river at this late hour, whispering sweet nothings.

Quentin Sterling was driving over the bridge, glancing at the road ahead while anxiously scanning each side, searching for Clarissa Morgan.

Ever since Clarissa left The Sterling’s residence, he hadn’t been able to reach her. He searched every place he could, contacted everyone he knew, but still there was no sign of Clarissa.

It was nearing three o’clock. Quentin Sterling asked his friend at the police station to locate Clarissa’s car.

Following the vehicle’s location, Quentin saw Clarissa’s car by the riverside, quickly pulling over and rushing to check beside Clarissa’s car, but found it empty.

But since her car was here, she must be nearby.

"Clarissa!" Quentin shouted, and his calls echoed through the quiet night.

Not far away, a woman sitting by a bench stood at the sound, looking around for the source.

Quentin saw her imdiately, and hurriedly jogged over, pulling the tearful Clarissa Morgan into his arms, asking worriedly, "Clarissa, are you okay?"

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