Yvonne was hospitalized with a high fever and remained unconscious for a full day and night. When she woke up, her mind was aplete nk.


    "Ms. Jones, you''re finally awake," Helen said, her face lighting up with relief from her seat beside the bed.


    "What..... happened to me?" Yvonne moved her lips, only to discover her voice was painfully hoarse.


    "Your wound got infected, and you had a persistent high fever. You were unconscious for a whole day and night,” Helen exined, reaching out to feel Yvonne''s forehead. Thankfully, the fever had finally broken.


    It would have been such a shame if a pretty girl like her suffered permanent damage.


    "The fever''s gone, thank goodness. Do you feel ufortable anywhere else?" Helen asked with concern.


    Yvonne''s head was splitting, her throat was dry and sore, and she felt utterly drained of strength. But she figured these were just the aftereffects of the injury and fever, and they would fade with time.


    Yvonne shook her head, then asked, puzzled, “Why are you here?"


    "The young master asked me toe take care of you. It wouldn''t be proper for a man like him to look after a youngdy like you while you''re injured," Helen said.


    Yvonne pressed her lips together in silence as her memory slowly returned, recalling the events in the basement.


    "Bet... was he hurt?" Yvonne asked, her voice raspy.


    “Just a minor scrape on his back, but his hand was injured quite badly. Luckily, it was just a flesh wound, no damage to the bones or tendons. Otherwise, how could he ever hold a gun again?" Helen said.


    "How did he hurt his hand?" Yvonne asked, confused. She remembered him fighting those men, but his hands hadn''t been injured then.


    "The young master shattered the venttion window with his bare hands. That''s how you were rescued," Helen told her honestly.


    Yvonne fell silent upon hearing this, her long, thickshes hiding the emotion in her eyes.


    "You must be hungry. I''ll go home and make you some nourishing soup. It''s the best for recovery," Helen said. She tucked the nket around Yvonne and turned to leave the room.


    In the hallway outside, Bet was leaning against the wall, his right hand, wrapped


    in white gauze, hanging at his side.


    "Sir, Ms. Jones is awake. Aren''t you going in to see her?" Helen asked as she approached him.


    Bet had stood watch outside


    the room all night, and his eyes were faintly bloodshot. He nced


    towards the room then looked


    away. "No, I''m heading back. Please take good care of her."


    During Yvonne''s hospital stay, Helen was her primary caregiver.


    When Sandra heard she was in the hospital, she rushed over as well.


    Sandra brought a fruit basket, picked out an apple, and sat by the bed, peeling it


    while listening to Yvonne recount what had happened.


    "I set a trap to get Peter arrested, which must have infuriated George. That''s why he hired someone to kill me."


    “What kind of monster does that to his own daughter? He''s worse than an animal,” Sandra cursed after hearing the story.


    "Megan must have had George''s approval when she swapped me and Queena. He probably knew I was being abused by the Reeds all those years but just couldn''t be bothered to care. In his heart, only Queena is his real daughter."


    Yvonne''s tone was cold and sarcastic.


    "That scumbag George... even a firing squad would be too good for him,” Sandra said angrily. "It''s a who attacked you


    shame the meably be hard to


    got away. It''ll


    catch them now." ''


    Yvonne replied, “It''s fine. With Peter in custody, he''s bound to talk. It won''t be easy


    for George to get away scot-free this time."


    Sandra nodded, cutting the peeled apple into small pieces and holding one to Yvonne''s lips.


    Yvonne took a small bite and continued, "What about the film set?"


    “Don''t worry, I''ve already spoken with the director. Just focus on getting better these


    next few days. And please, be careful," Sandra urged.