"Miss Vaughn is very special and courageous. If I entrust my brother to you, I will feel assured. I just don’t know under what conditions I can persuade Miss Vaughn to agree?"
Ann Vaughn thought of the frail boy who seed like a gust of wind could knock him over. She initially thought he was being abused by his family, but seeing Sutton Jennings’s concern for him, she realized it wasn’t what she had imagined.
Moreover, after tonight’s incident, she feared she wouldn’t be able to play the piano at Aurelia without any shadows of doubt.
For the sake of the child, she couldn’t put herself in any uncertain danger again.
"Mr. Jennings has already spoken to this extent. If I refuse, wouldn’t that be ungrateful?" Ann Vaughn chuckled lightly, "As for whether I can help, we’ll have to wait until I diagnose your brother to know."
"Miss Vaughn, you are too humble."
-
In a secluded and serene Gothic villa far from the city, the gentle breeze brushed against the drapes.
Sutton Jennings brought Ann Vaughn into the room, where they imdiately saw the frail figure in a wheelchair by the floor-to-ceiling window, head tilted as if he were asleep.
"The young master always has trouble sleeping, even the slightest noise can wake him. But today, strangely, he’s sleeping soundly, which ans his health is improving." The butler whispered.
Ann Vaughn recalled what Sutton Jennings had said about the boy’s condition. Her brow twitched slightly as she walked over to take the boy’s pulse, but her expression suddenly changed.
The pulse was weak, almost imperceptible, as if he was close to losing his breath!
"Quick, open the windows and bring a basin!" Without thinking further, Ann Vaughn rummaged through her bag for a dicine bottle and forced it into the boy’s mouth!
The butler didn’t quite react in ti, but Sutton Jennings trustfully walked over to the window, opened them one by one, letting the cool breeze in.
He then fetched a small silver basin from the bathroom and handed it to Ann Vaughn, "Will this do?"
Too busy to reply, Ann Vaughn placed the basin down, inserted a golden needle into the boy’s wrist, and used her other hand to vigorously thump his back.
The boy’s pale and tranquil face suddenly twitched, and the next second, he opened his tightly shut eyes, leaned forward, and vomited into the silver basin.
The sound alone was enough to evoke so sympathy.
Seeing this, Ann Vaughn sighed in relief, withdrew the golden needle, and as the boy stopped vomiting, she reluctantly administered another bottle of dication.
Extracting this restorative elixir cost her an unimaginable amount of effort and care...
Watching Ann Vaughn’s rough actions of needling and dicating, the butler wanted to intervene but was promptly stopped by Sutton Jennings.
"She won’t harm Sawyer," Sutton Jennings watched calmly, trusting Ann Vaughn’s intentions.
"Cough, cough," The boy’s pale complexion regained so color after ingesting the dication. As he looked at the scene before him, his eyes gradually dimd, and he lowered them with little emotion.
He didn’t have the look of soone who had just survived a near-death experience. Ann Vaughn couldn’t help but pat his head, "Why on earth would a child learn to take sleeping pills to commit suicide? Luckily, you’re of frail constitution, because if soone else took a bottle, they might not die."
Boy: "..."
Sutton Jennings: "..."
Why does that sound so unsympathetic?
"Sawyer, who gave you the sleeping pills?" Sutton Jennings wiped Sawyer Jennings’s mouth clean with a handkerchief, asking in a calm voice.
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