Right, why didn’t he think of that?
Would you and your friends not leave a contact number for each other?
How could they possibly not?
If Sophia Moore truly knew Young Master Peary and was close enough that he would stand up for her, how could she not have his contact information?
Even if she didn’t have his, she should at least have his assistant’s number.
Even a fool wouldn’t choose to stand in one spot and wait.
So, this Sophia Moore didn’t really know Young Master Peary at all, or even if she did, they weren’t close.
At this mont, a light drizzle suddenly began. Sophia Moore, standing outside, felt her lips twitch.
What on earth is up with this weather?
Sophia Moore was standing outside without any place to take shelter from the rain!
Here the rain was a light drizzle, yet in the distant mountains, it had been raining incessantly.
The cliffs were steep, and the ground was overrun with weeds, from low-growing herbaceous plants to slightly taller shrubs, and then to towering trees.
This place offered a marvelous view, yet it was fraught with danger at every turn.
Alan Morgan was lying quietly on the ground, his clothes stained with mud and completely soaked through.
The rain struck his face, making it itch.
Cold, hunger, and pain finally brought him back to his senses.
He opened his eyes and, for a mont, felt a little disoriented. He wasn’t sure exactly where he was.
It took two whole minutes before he was fully awake.
Shirley Grant! Gerry Peary!
He attempted to stand up abruptly, but a sharp pain shot through his ankle.
"HISS—"
A sprain?
He rolled up his pant leg, revealing a gash, fully ten centiters long, running straight down his calf.
I must have gotten this when I fell.
The wound, soaked in rain for so long, wasn’t bleeding much anymore.
However, the pale edges of the wound were curled outward, looking particularly grueso.
It’s so deep!
Alan Morgan frowned. I wonder if this will affect my walking; I still need to find Shirley Grant and Gerry Peary.
He took a bottle of mineral water from his backpack and used it to rinse the wound, clearing away the dirt and sand. Then, he took out a bandage and wound it carefully around the injury.
He urgently wanted to find Shirley Grant, although she might not be up ahead.
「anwhile, in Capital Town Hospital.」
Shirley Grant looked utterly haggard, her cracked lips pale and bloodless.
Ethan Martinez arrived at the ward carrying lunch, only to see Shirley Grant sitting there in a daze, while Gerry Peary looked around with his round, shiny eyes.
"Uncle?"
Despite Ethan Martinez being clad in a hat, face mask, and sunglasses, Gerry Peary recognized him at first glance.
He happily called out to him but consciously lowered his voice.
Ethan Martinez sighed inwardly when he saw that Shirley Grant hadn’t reacted to his entrance.
"Guess what tasty food your uncle brought for you?"
He took off his gear, smiling at Gerry Peary.
Because of the morning’s news report, the hospital was now surrounded by journalists.
He had waited outside for a long ti before he found an opening and managed to sneak inside.
Evidently, Shirley Grant hadn’t seen the report.
"Gerry, has your mom been like this the entire ti?" Ethan Martinez pointed at Shirley Grant, who was sitting nearby, and couldn’t help but ask Gerry Peary.
Gerry hesitated for a mont, then nodded.
He really wanted to tell Uncle that Mom wasn’t just like this today; she’d been like this before too.
She often just sat there in a daze. When he talked to her, she wouldn’t even know.
He was young and didn’t know what Mom was really thinking, but he had his own answer in his heart.
It must be... It must be because of my illness.
Mom looks so haggard now because of too.
At this thought, Gerry hung his head, suddenly resenting the father he had never t.
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