As the commotion died down, Alice's father, Reginald Thompson, stood tall, his expressionless gray eyes fixed on his daughter. "Alice, what happened? Why is there blood on your dress?"
Alice hesitated, unsure of how much to reveal. "I...I was at the hospital, Father. I helped someone."
Reginald's expression turned stern. "Who was it? And why didn't you tell me?"
Alice glanced at Michael, who shook his head slightly, warning her not to reveal too much. "Just someone in need, Father. It's not important."
Reginald's eyes narrowed. "I'll decide what's important. Michael, tell me what you know."
Michael stepped forward, choosing his words carefully. "We were on our way back from the meeting in Kingston, and Alice wanted to help an injured man. I didn't think it was a big deal, Uncle."
