Amelia Clarke completed the paperwork and returned to the ward.
Olivia Wilson was settled in snugly, her blanket carefully tucked in, the room air-conditioned to a comfortable temperature.
Amelia's gaze swept across the ward, which, while not luxurious, could definitely be considered high-end, with cleanliness, spaciousness, and brightness, and fully equipped with everything necessary. A faint scent of disinfectant lingered in the air.
Yet it was all due to a single phone call from Owen Moreland; her treatment in the hospital had changed so drastically.
Amelia once again profoundly understood the fact that power truly was a wonderful thing.
How fortunate she was to have Owen Moreland's protection.
Standing in front of the hospital bed lost in thought for a moment, Amelia went into the bathroom, took a clean basin and towel, filled it with some warm water, and came out intending to wipe Olivia's face.
There was still a hint of bloodstain on her lips.
