Morris Jackson always had good control over his emotions, but tonight, Lyra Smith had disappeared right under his nose...
Looking at the unconscious woman in his arms again, Morris tightened his jaw: "Speed up."
The driver in front kept stepping on the gas and accelerating.
A few minutes later, the car arrived at the nearest Angel Hospital.
Two hours later, Lyra was asleep in the hospital bed.
Her forehead injury had been treated, but her face was still pale due to a mild concussion. She was already thin, and at this moment, she looked frail and pitiful. Morris had not relaxed his brow all the way to the hospital.
Before Erwin Jackson came in, he carefully and quietly cracked open the door and looked into the room.
Confirming that he could enter, he slowly slinked in without making a sound.
"Uncle Morris."
Erwin walked to the side of the bed.
