Fortunate to Have You This Lifetime
Chapter 1158 Little Girl_1

Chapter 1158: Chapter 1158 Little Girl_1

Victoria Morrison shook her head, "Your professional competence is very outstanding, which fully qualifies you to assume the role of a lawyer, prosecutor, or judge. However, from a long-term perspective, the value you could create as a lawyer might far exceed that of a prosecutor."

Purple Summers furrowed her brows, finding it difficult to accept at the moment.

For a long time, she had been unwavering in her desire to become a prosecutor, and now, hearing such an appraisal, she felt bewildered and lost...

It was like someone unexpectedly disrupting a planned schedule, the clarity of her direction now thrown into disarray.

She had never expected that due to a case involving animal cruelty, her future path would take such a deviation...

Purple Summers sat silently in Victoria Morrison’s office, not uttering a word.

At that moment, Victoria Morrison added, "It’s not just me who feels this way."

Purple Summers couldn’t help but ask, "Could it be because I’ve fought too many cases, so the teachers are biased and think I’m more suited to be a lawyer?"

Upon hearing this, Victoria Morrison smiled, did not respond to her question, but instead asked, "Why do you want to become a prosecutor so much?"

Why?

What exactly was the reason... Purple Summers couldn’t remember anymore.

A goal clung to for too long, to the point where the initial reasons were forgotten.

Upon careful reflection, it seemed to be to prove her own worth.

When she was very young, her mother deemed her a burden, left her with her grandmother to remarry someone else, and cut off all contact.

After the neighbors learned of this, they agreed with her mother’s actions, telling her grandmother, "A girl isn’t very useful, having her around only drains you. What she did was out of necessity."

...Later on, she studied very hard, with undivided focus, skipping grades to attend the best university, and then got into the Judicial Training Institute to become a prosecutor.

In her subconscious, she was always trying to prove she wasn’t a burden.

Old memories stirred a heavy gloom in her heart, and Purple Summers wanted to think no further, managing a smile with some effort, "I will consider it carefully."

Victoria Morrison nodded.

...

Leaving school, light rain began to fall from the sky, without wind, the raindrops scattered on the car window, each a small dot.

Purple Summers looked sideways at the car window, feeling the rain resembled her current mood, disordered yet gradually covering her whole heart, unavoidable.

As they moved away from the city, the rain grew heavier, and there were very few vehicles on the road.

The driver suddenly said, "Madam, there’s a little girl in the middle of the road ahead."

The bodyguard in the passenger seat then said, "Is she a deaf-mute child? Why isn’t she reacting to the horn?"

Purple Summers looked up and saw indeed a little girl, with her back to them, appearing to be about seven or eight years old based on her height.

Because the girl stood in the middle of the road, unmoved by the sound of the horn no matter how much the driver honked, they had to slow down to a stop.

The bodyguard opened the door, braving the rain to inquire, and after a moment returned, telling Purple Summers, "Madam, the child says she ran away and is too hungry to walk any longer. She’s asking if she can hitch a ride with us."

Purple Summers thought for a moment and said, "Let her come over. If she keeps getting rained on, she’ll catch a cold. Take her with us for now and then figure out how to contact her parents to pick her up."

The bodyguard nodded and then led the little girl over.

The back of the car was full of intimidating bodyguards. Fearing she would scare the child, Purple Summers had the little girl sit with her.

She used a dry paper towel to wipe the rain from the girl’s face and head, finding the child clean and cute though a bit thin and pitiful, with a sharp chin and lips that had turned pale from the cold.

"What’s your name?" Purple Summers asked.

"Cherry." The voice was crisp.

Purple Summers said, "Cherry, where do you live? Auntie will have someone take you home."

Cherry frowned, her expression stubborn, "I don’t want to go back."

"Why don’t you want to go back?"

Cherry lifted her head, her little face pale as snow, eyes deep and dark, as she stared straight at Purple Summers: "I had a fight with my dad, and he doesn’t want to take care of me anymore."