Walter Schmidt dashed up to the second floor, his steps urgent. At this point, Tara Summer's room was filled with many people.
Tara lay on the bed, still unconscious, with two doctors by her bedside. The Summers were all present, each of them anxiously watching the direction of the large bed.
Not until the doctor finished Tara's IV drip and assured everyone not to worry, did the group collectively breathe a sigh of relief.
"Has she not woken up at all yet?" Walter sat on the bed, his eyes intensely fixed on Tara's pale and bloodless face.
"It's okay, she's just weak."
"How can she be weak!?" George Summer also came over, his brows furrowed.
The doctor, having removed his gloves, spoke truthfully, "Someone must have been continuously drugging her with sedatives, which is why she can't wake up, but rest assured, we've done a full-body check on her, and fortunately, there was no direct injection, otherwise, things wouldn't have been as easy as they are now!"
