Late at night, ten o'clock.
Hospital.
VIP ward.
William Smith sat on the hospital bed, his head and back wrapped in thick gauze—the soup had almost entirely spilled on him.
The doctor said it was a superficial second-degree burn, and because of the large area affected, it needed to be well cared for to avoid scarring.
The doctor had also said that luckily they managed to treat him correctly on time, or else it could have been more severe.
As soon as Ivy Smith entered, she saw her precious son wrapped up like a rice dumpling and immediately burst into tears, clutching William's hand and sobbing uncontrollably.
"Andrew..."
He was her only child, her lifeline—how could she not feel heartbroken?
Ciara Taylor had been fond of William Smith with a single-minded determination to marry him, and having done her homework about being his wife, naturally, she recognized Ivy Smith.
When Ivy cried, Ciara handed her a tissue pleasingly, looking particularly docile and sensible.