He pulled her ashore, grabbed a bath towel, and wrapped it around her body.
He bent down and easily lifted her into his arms.
Feeling light and dizzy, Sophie Sullivan subconsciously clung to Thomas Shannon’s neck to prevent herself from falling.
From her vantage point in his embrace, his resolute, cold eyes and beautifully curved chin exuded a captivating allure.
But right now, all I can think about is my face.
An overwhelming wave of regret washed over her. I bla myself. Why was I so reckless? It’s too late for regrets now. I can only secretly pray my face is alright.
He carried her back to the bedroom in haste. "Charlie River!"
Hearing his Young Master call his na, Charlie River responded imdiately, "Young Master, I’m here!"
"Call the doctor up, quickly!"
"Yes!"
Although he didn’t know what had happened, seeing the Young Master’s urgency, Charlie River didn’t dare delay for a mont.
A doctor had been brought along on this trip because of the injuries to Sophie’s face. Now, the doctor was proving useful.
Receiving the order, the doctor grabbed his dical box and rushed nonstop to the bedroom upstairs. "Young Master, I’m here."
"The maniac’s wound ca into contact with water. You need to treat her."
"Touched water?" The doctor was shocked. Hadn’t I warned her repeatedly? She absolutely couldn’t let it touch water!
The doctor, already nursing a headache from the situation, looked helplessly at Sophie. "Young Master, may I call Dr. Stanford?"
After all, George Stanford was the expert in this field and Sophie’s operating surgeon. In this unexpected situation, it was only logical to consult him for his opinion and thods.
"Call!"
The doctor took out his mobile phone and called George Stanford. He briefly described Sophie’s situation over the phone. On the other end, George Stanford, upon hearing that Sophie’s face had touched water, exploded in anger.
"That idiot! Didn’t I tell her she absolutely mustn’t let the wound touch water? Did my words go in one ear and out the other?"
The attending doctor looked uneasy. In the spacious bedroom, everyone else fell silent.
George Stanford’s voice echoed clearly in the bedroom.
Thomas Shannon shot Sophie a cold glare. She brought this on herself, didn’t she?
Sophie innocently glared back. It’s not like I wanted this to happen!
"Dr. Stanford, now is not the ti to criticize the maniac," Thomas Shannon said into the phone. "Tell us, what should be done about her face now?"
"Change the dressing," ca the reply.
George Stanford took a deep breath. "Make sure to disinfect thoroughly. Don’t let her wound get infected. Give her an anti-inflammatory injection later."
"Alright, I understand."
After hanging up the phone, the doctor opened the dical box and began preparing for disinfection.
"Maniac, I’m going to start. It might hurt a bit, just bear with it."
Sophie nodded. "Okay."
Wearing dical gloves, the doctor started to remove the gauze from her face, each movent extrely gentle and cautious.
As the layers of gauze were removed, her face was gradually revealed to Thomas Shannon.
Before the surgery, her face had been covered in crisscrossing scars, their dark colors resembling countless centipedes crawling all over it.
Now, even though the wound hadn’t completely healed, its pinkish hue was a vast improvent.
As the doctor began to disinfect the wound, Sophie winced in pain, and fine beads of cold sweat quickly broke out on her forehead.
It hurts so much!
She bit her lip, her face pale, desperately reaching for sothing to grab onto.
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