She lowered her voice, "Doctor Delaney, is there really no hope for Mr. Cheney's leg...?"
"There's some malfunction in the neural system, I'm afraid he'll have to spend his life in a wheelchair," sighed Doctor Delaney.
"Is it serious? Has he suffered any other injuries?"
Jasmine Yale didn't dare to ask Sylvan Cheney face to face, knowing he would definitely avoid such topics.
"He also got a severe blow to the head, and he might suffer from insomnia during rainy or humid weather. Miss Yale, you must inform me if anything happens," Doctor Delaney warned.
"I understand."
"Miss Yale, it falls upon you to take care of Mr. Cheney now. I will visit periodically."
"Thank you, Doctor Delaney."
After she saw Doctor Delaney out, Jasmine Yale stood at the doorway of the villa, dazed.
So, Sylvan Cheney had suffered severe injuries.
Though he had made some recovery, he could never be the old Sylvan Cheney again.
The cold wind blew her hair strands. She stood in the wind for a long time.
