NovelXXXChapter 425 Citrine was the nHilda had chosen for her daughter long before she was born.
Even before the baby's first heartbeat, Hilda had already decided: her little girl would be called Citrine.
On the day Citrine was born, Hilda crafted a delicate silver locket for her newborn. She engraved the n"Citrine" into the metal herself—a simple, loving promise for her daughter's future.
But when her daughter disappeared, that locket vanished with her.
Now, a surge of emotion washed over Hilda as she looked at Monica, her voice turning grave. "Sendher information," she said.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtMonica had been waiting for this moment, her heart leaping with hope. "Aunt Hilda, I already sent you her file ages ago. You just never checked it." Hilda's expression faltered for a moment, but she quickly masked it and opened their message thread. Sure enough, there it was-Citrine's profile.
She tapped it open, and before she could even scroll down, a photograph caught her breath.
A young woman smiled at the camera, her high ponytail bouncing with youthful energy.
Hilda's gaze lingered on the girl's face.
Those features, that gentle curve of the jaw, the shape of her eyes-she looked so much like Hilda herself.
Just looking at her filled Hilda with a warmth she'd never known before, a sense of belonging that felt almost instinctive.
With tears brimming in her eyes, she asked Monica, "Can I meet her?" Even though she knew disappointment was possible, Hilda couldn't bear the thought of not trying.
Before Monica could answer, Hilda pressed on, her voice trembling with urgency. "I want to see her now." Deep inside, she was convinced this was her daughter.
Monica hesitated, rising from her seat. "It might not be so easy," she admitted, glancing at Hilda with uncertainty.
She explained, "I met Citrine through Sylvia. Maybe I was a bit too eager last t--she must have realized I wanted to get a DNA sample. After that, I asked Sylvia to arrange another meeting, but Citrine turned down every invitation." "It's my fault," Monica added, her regret plain. "If I hadn't pushed so hard, I wouldn't have scared her off." A moment later, a thought struck Monica. Her eyes lit up, and she exclaimed, "Wait! Aunt Hilda, Sylvia toldCitrine studies at Crestwood University. We could go to the campus-maybe we'll run into her." She continued, "Sylvia said Citrine's really well-known around school." Hilda didn't hesitate. Her longing to see her daughter overwhelmed everything else. "Let's go. Now." Just then, Hilda's assistant appeared, bowing slightly. "President Saunders, our international clients are asking when we'll be ready to begin. They're pressing for a timeline." Hilda didn't even glance his way. "We're not starting," she replied coolly. "Tell them to pack up." "Let them know we'll revisit the partnership another time. I have more important matters to deal with. And apologize-tell them'm 1. willing to offer concessions. But if they walk away, I'll accept that.” With that, Hilda swept out of C. Corp with Monica at her side.
They headed straight for Crestwood University.
It was Monday, and most students were in class; the campus lawns and walkways were nearly deserted.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏmWith ton their hands, Hilda and Monica wandered the campus, exploring nearly every corner.
n't in vain. All Their search wasn't
around the university-on digital boards, notice walls, and in glass walls, and trophy cases they found evidence of Citrine's achievements: ver award-winning projects, honors, and accolades.
Each accomplishment was impressive-any one of them would make her a top candidate for a job. a Even Hilda, usually so reserved, couldn't help but admit: this girl was extraordinary. She gently traced Citrine's photo on a campus wall, her eyes softening with rare tenderness.
Then, the bell signaling the end of class echoed across the grounds.
A flood of students poured out of the building.
In the crowd, Monica suddenly spotted a familiar face. She tugged urgently at Hilda's sleeve, pointing toward a girl descending the steps.
"Aunt Hilda-it's Citrine!"
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