After a long while, she raised her head and calmly looked at Sylvan Cheney.
"Let's strike a deal," she said softly.
Under the Ferris wheel, Charles Mcintosh and Lilac Serval heard everything clearly.
This woman wants to make a deal?
But no one dared to relax their guard, silently waiting for Yolanda Fern's next words.
"Speak," Sylvan glanced at her, the sharp brilliance in his eyes diminishing.
"Sylvan Cheney, I can't take Chris with me. If he doesn't wake up, I want you to let him stay in the hospital; if he does, you make sure he will be well-fed and cared for." Yolanda's eyes were dull, "The same goes for Lana."
"And if I agree, will you let my son Chale Cheney go?" Sylvan looked at her intently.
If Chris Fern doesn't regain consciousness, then he will need a huge sum of money for his surgery to stay alive. Yolanda had indeed calculated this well.
"Sylvan Cheney, I still don't quite trust you. What are we to do..." Yolanda chuckled lightly.
