Her body temperature had already lowered, no longer as burning hot as before.
Her little face remained rosy, like a fully ripe apple in autumn.
Chester Yale's palm was slightly cool. Molly seemed to really like this temperature, rubbing her little head instinctively against his palm like a comforting little fox.
Chester was taken aback for a moment, then immediately indulgently ruffled her hair.
He carefully tucked in the corners of her quilt before letting his executive assistant bring in the document. He sat by the bedside and started reading silently.
After a while, there were no signs of Molly waking up.
"Why hasn't she woken up yet?" Chester put down the document and sent someone to call the doctor.
"Mr. Chester, please wait, let me check. She should have woken up by now." The doctor stepped forward anxiously, checking the little princess up and down.
"The young miss is okay, it's just... it's just..." the doctor hesitated, looking somewhat peculiar.
