At 9 AM, the landline on the bedside table was ringing non-stop.
Sophie Sullivan, in a sleepy haze, reached out and hung up the phone.
She crawled back into her silk quilt and resud sleeping.
The phone, as if trying to challenge her patience, rang endlessly.
Propping herself up on her arm, she reached out to answer the phone, "Who is it?"
"What ti is it, and you’re still asleep? Young people nowadays..."
Hearing Old Mr. Stanford’s voice, Sophie imdiately snapped half awake. Sitting up and rubbing her eyes, she asked, "Mr. Stanford, you’re calling so early. Have you figured out the surgical plan?"
"Of course!"
"Amazing! When can I have the surgery?" Sophie couldn’t wait to say goodbye to this hideous face.
"Co downstairs."
With that, George Stanford hung up the phone.
Sophie stared blankly at the phone, saying "Hello?" a few tis. Only after confirming he had indeed hung up did she hastily run her fingers through her hair.
Could it be that Old Mr. Stanford was already at the manor?
With that thought in mind, Sophie quickly changed her clothes, finished washing up, and hurried downstairs.
Downstairs, George Stanford was sitting on the sofa, leisurely sipping tea.
"Mr. Stanford!"
Sophie quickly walked towards him, without even wearing her mask.
With a disgusted look, George Stanford comnted, "I must say, you young people really don’t care about appearances. Early in the morning, why let people see that hideous face of yours?"
Sophie: "..."
Old Mr. Stanford, enough already!
After expressing his disgust, George Stanford solemnly took out the plan he had customized overnight and placed it on the tea table. "You can take a look for yourself and be prepared."
Sophie sat down and opened the folder. To be honest, she couldn’t understand any of the technical terms in there.
All she noticed was the crucial point: the surgery required at least three sessions.
At least, which ant that if things weren’t optimistic, there would be a fourth, fifth...
"Aren’t you very capable? Can’t you fix my face with just one surgery?" Sophie closed the folder and looked up, puzzled.
Mid-sip of tea, George Stanford frowned upon hearing her words. He put down his tea cup and began to scold her. "I say, you unlucky child, why are you so impatient? Look at this ugly face of yours; do you think it can be fixed in one go? I may be skilled, but I’m not a wizard who can magically change your face with a wave of a wand. Don’t be so hasty; you’re trying to run before you can even walk. That’s no good, no good at all."
Sophie’s head buzzed. So that’s why Mrs. Guillen chose Mr. Guillen over him!
Who could put up with his constant nagging?!
"So it will take at least three surgeries?"
Taking into account the recovery period after the surgery, the treatnt cycle for her face would be quite long...
"So, are you complaining about how long it will take?" George Stanford looked serious. "Let tell you, it’s easy to ruin a pretty face, but it’s hard to fix an ugly one!"
Sophie lowered her head in disappointnt.
Seeing her lifeless deanor, George Stanford stroked his chin. Had his harsh words crushed the poor girl’s confidence?
After so thought, he tried to comfort her awkwardly, "Don’t be discouraged. I had a patient whose face was disfigured by sulfuric acid, and it took a total of seven years to fully restore it. In comparison, yours is a trivial matter, hardly worth ntioning."
Seven years...
Sophie felt utterly lost. If it took her that long to restore her face, how could she even think about recovering her true identity?
And what about getting revenge?
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