I returned home alone, leaving Vincent at the hospital with Anya. Why the hell do I feel bad about leaving even though Vincent insisted on it? Damn it. Why should I care? He asked me to leave. He's not even telling me the truth about his daughter.
I lingered by the kitchen, just next to Anya's medicine drawer. All I have to do is a quick Google search and I'd have my answer.
And yet... I couldn't bring myself to. Why should I have to search it up? If he wanted me to know, he'd just tell me, right? Maybe it's best I just mind my own business.
Maybe it's nothing, kids get sick all the time! I'm no doctor, but I know that much. It's probably nothing important if he didn't mention it to me himself.
And yet... That grave look on the doctor's face, on Vincent's face... That didn't seem like nothing.
I shook my head. I didn't have any right to demand answers.
I was just the nanny.