A Beauty With Multiple Masks
Chapter 113

She never told anyone about her vulnerabilities. Gazing at her deeply, Vinson felt a strange sense of frustration. He was about to speak when someone knocked on the door again. “Shh…” Vinson made a shushing gesture. Understanding his intention, Arielle hid in the bedroom again. However, the moment she entered, she heard Vinson. “Come out. He’s one of us.” Arielle quickly pushed the door open and returned to the living room.

She saw the bespectacled man, whom she had seen in the Jupiters, standing in the living room. He was holding the tissue paper which contained Henrick’s hair. The man sniffed it, scrunched his nose and asked, “Why is there a smell?” Arielle blushed. As she had hidden it in her shoe, it smelled a little… Just when she was feeling embarrassed and unsure how to explain, Vinson said calmly, “You’re such a clean freak. I have only held it in my hand for a few minutes.

If it smells… It’s probably the scent of my body.” Arielle was stunned. When Carter heard that, he did not dwell on it further and shoved the tissue paper into his pocket. Then, his gaze fell onto Arielle and lingered there for a moment. When he glanced at Vinson, who only had a towel wrapped around him, a look of surprise crept into his eyes. “Are both of you…” “It’s something personal, so we need to hide it from some people.” “Looks like this lady is the one who requires the DNA test.” Carter stretched his hand out to her. “Please give me a strand of your hair too.”

Arielle immediately plucked out a strand of hair and passed it to Carter. He grabbed a piece of tissue, wrapped the strand and said to Vinson, “About that dude in the hospital… We’ve tried all kinds of methods, but none of them works. The doctor said that he has post-traumatic stress disorder, so the treatment’s going to be tough. It’ll take at least a year.” “A year?” Vinson immediately frowned and said, “We can’t wait for so long.”

At that moment, Arielle took a step forward and asked, “Post-traumatic stress disorder?” When she suddenly chimed in, Carter adjusted his spectacles unhappily. To him, all women were trouble. However, as Arielle was Vinson’s friend, he had more patience for her than for other women. As he had already argued with the other two in the hospital because of Arielle, he was so annoyed that he had a headache.

Hence, he was starting to lose his patience with her. “It’s between both of us, so Ms. Moore, you shouldn’t…” Before Carter could finish his sentence, Vinson raised his hand and interrupted him. Confused, he heard Vinson ask Arielle, “Do you know about post-traumatic stress disorder?” She nodded and said, “The acronym for post-traumatic stress disorder is PTSD.

My… My friend from overseas—or to be more specific, a couple—is doing research in this area. They aim to cure it through traditional Chanaean medicine. When I was free, I picked up some knowledge from them.” Carter asked in surprise, “Treat a psychological illness with traditional Chanaean medicine? Are you joking?”