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    Chapter 68. The Healer’s Compassion 2


    He didnt look convinced, but he sign anyone bunso


    After promising to run the next day at the same time hallway


    As we headed toward the ent Emmasosovebed Ge


    whispered, Testis getting worse The Sociors some think she is much sme d


    syn


    Months Maybe wasks Same Telesmere the we


    I stopped walking my mind facing There has to be SAMAKING MESTO NA SA S


    The specialist in Chicago might be able to help Emme sa restantly. By the mating to s note bag


    T’s necessary Icat in They do they care possible


    As were the single, Emma sunrised me with a trhetour Than and she t


    ever shown them this mechpassion


    horserker Back my rengthening Thea shines assis in antira


    be that for them


    pripara didn’t take lighti


    The afarina nissan Sandeas. The medine fans tulione dance in the facing ichemos shoes already entry for the tiny


    isatter an my fast, syading on this case Mles. The more song in stands Faroys


    the more one ancora Meing some


    I was so absorbed in my work that Ipletely forgot about my dinner ns with Commer until my phone


    “Hello!! sanowrar, orderby and gra


    Bistro for half an hour


    I closed my eyes, quilt washing over me ‘Conor, I’m so sorry Ipletely lost track of time


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    <Chapter 68 The Healer’s.


    ***


    “Are you alright?” The concern in his voice was immediate.


    “I’m fine,” I assured him. “I’m at the office working on a case. These siblings I told you about the factory


    worker who lost his hand and his sister with leukemia–their situation is worse than I thought.”


    There was a pause before Connor spoke again. “Have you eaten?”


    The question caught me off guard. “What?”


    “Dinner,” he rified. “Have you had anything since lunch?”


    I nced at the clock–9:30 PM. I hadn’t eaten since the hospital lunch hours ago.


    “No,” I admitted. “I’ve been too focused on this case.”


    “I’m picking you up,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Text me the address.”


    “Connor, you don’t have to-”


    “Olivia.” His voice softened. “Let me take care of you while you’re taking care of everyone else.”


    A small smile formed on my lips at his concern. “Okay. I’m at Moow Legal Services on Fifth Street.”


    “I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”


    After hanging up, I turned back to my notes, considering the challenges ahead. Even if we won the case-


    which I was confident we would–collecting thepensation would be another battle entirely.


    Companies like Northern Industrial Factory often dragged out the payment process<b>, </b>knowing that vulnerable


    clients couldn’t afford to wait. Meanwhile, Noah needed specialized treatment for his injury, and Leah’s


    condition was deteriorating rapidly.


    I made a decision then, reaching for my phone again. The Moonlight Charitable Foundation answered on the


    third ring.


    “This is Olivia Winters,” I said. “I’d like to make a donation.”


    By the time I finished the call, I had transferred ten million dors to the foundation, with specific provisions. for the Pierce siblings‘ care. I structured it carefully to preserve their dignity–the foundation would cover their medical expenses as part of a broader program for injured workers, not as direct charity.


    I also sent Emma a separate transfer of <b>$</b>200,000 for daily expenses and to hire household help while she


    focused on supporting the siblings.


    Her response came almost immediately–a voice message filled with tears and gratitude.


    <i>“</i>Olivia,” Emma’s voice cracked with emotion. “I don’t know what to say. You’ve shown morepassion to


    these kids than anyone ever has. Thank you doesn’t seem enough, but… thank you.”


    I was still smiling at her message when my phone rang again. This time it was Jason Mitchell from the legal


    team I’d assembled for Noah’s case.


    “We’ve got the preliminary injunction,” he reported. “The factory can’t destroy any evidence rted to the


    ident.”


    “That’s excellent news,” I said, feeling a small victory. “What about the safety inspection records?”


    “Still working on getting those subpoenaed. Theirwyers are fighting us every step of the way.”


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    Chapter 68 The Healer’s


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    “Keep pushing.” I urged. “Those records will prove they knew about the safety issues long before Noah’s


    ident.”


    After hanging up, I gathered my things, preparing to meet Connor. Despite the challenges ahead, I felt more purposeful than I had in months. This case mattered–these siblings mattered–and I was determined to help


    them.


    (Connor’s POV)


    The evening traffic parted before my Cullinan SUV as I made my way toward Moow Legal Services. Olivia’s


    voice had sounded tired on the phone, and I found myself pressing the elerator a little harder, eager to see


    her.


    My wolf was restless, concerned about our mate working too hard and not taking care of herself. The


    protective instinct had only grown stronger since our engagement became official.


    I was just turning onto Fifth Street when my phone rang through the car’s speaker system. Frank Langley’s


    name appeared on the dashboard disy.


    “Rivers,” I answered, keeping my eyes on the road.


    “Sir,” Frank’s voice was tense,cking its usual calm efficiency. “Something bad has happened to Vanessa


    Reed!”


    My hand tightened on the steering wheel, instantly alert. “Exin.”


    S


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