MainNovelChapter 111 That night, when Citrine returned to her room, Raymond noticed her backpack lying on the couch in the living room.
He walked over, intending to take it upstairs for her. But as he picked it up, he didn't realize the zipper was open; the moment he lifted the bag, everything inside spilled out onto the floor.
Raymond bent down to gather up the fallen items and noticed a stack of crimson certificates scattered across the carpet.
"Achievement awards," he murmured as he glanced at them.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtAfter picking everything up, he gathered the certificates into a neat pile-there were quite a few of them. The one on top was for earning first place in her grade on a monthly exam. Underneath were more certificates for ranking first in her class and grade.
As Raymond flipped through the stack, he realized the awards spanned from when Citrine was four all the way to eleven. He carefully went through each one.
Most were for academic excellence-first place in tests—along with awards for math competitions, writing contests, problem-solving tournaments, even track and field. What surprised Raymond most was that every single certificate was for first place. Not a single second place among them.
Yet, most of the certificates were rumpled and creased, seven torn, a few with water stains as if they'd once been soaked through.
Seeing this, Raymond felt as though someone had reached inside and wrenched his heart. The pain was almost physical.
He knew how simple a child's heart could be-kids loved showing off their achievements. What kind of child would willingly crush and tear up their own awards? Raymond could almost picture that stubborn little girl, tafter tbringing her hard-won certificates to Sawyer, only to be met with indifference. Alone in her room, crying, she must have torn those certificates apart out of sheer disappointment.
Just how deep must her heartbreak have been, for her to destroy the only evidence of her achievements? That night, Raymond didn't sleep. Instead, he sat at the table, painstakingly gluing the shredded certificates back together, smoothing out every crease, one by one. By the the finished, it was already dawn. The next afternoon, when Citrine chfrom school, she found workers bustling around the living room. What could they be renovating in here? she wondered.
Confused, Citrine turned to Ismael. "Ismael, what's going on?" Ismael, busy directing the workmen, turned and explained, "Miss, this was Mr. Raymond's idea. He gave instructions first thing this morning—said he wanted a custom display cabinet, but I'm not sure what for." Assuming Raymond just needed sextra storage, Citrine didn't think much of it and went up to her room.
It wasn't until the following day that she saw the finished result: an entire wall of elegant glass-fronted cabinets in the living room, and inside, every single certificate she'd ever earned, lovingly restored. The once-tattered fragments were somehow pieced back together, the creases ironed flat.
She stood there, stunned, for a long time.
Follow on Novᴇl-Onlinᴇ.cᴏm"How do you like it?" Raymond had just walked in and, seeing her standing in front of the display, couldn't help but ruffle her hair.
Citrine's heart clenched. She turned, gazing at him, her voice almost a whisper. "Did you fix all of these yourself?" Raymond nodded. "I did." "Why would you do that?" Her tone was conflicted, a flicker of old wounds showing in her eyes.
These certificates were the proof of all the years she'd desperately sought Sawyer's approval, the evidence of a child's longing for a father's love.
"These are the trophies of your journey, Citrine. Every single one is precious. Of course wanted to keep them safe and put them on display," Raymond replied softly, warmth in his eyes. That warmth stung her in a way she couldn't explain. Citrine looked away, unable to meet his gaze.
All those years, she'd worked so hard, achieved so much—just to catch om Sawyer's attention. But whenever she and Jeanette handed in their certificates together, Sawyer only ever saw Jeanette.
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