Sophie Sullivan was going for a walk to digest her food, and George Stanford joined her.
She stepped out of the room first and saw Minimus Hart, looking dumbfounded, standing just outside the door.
Minimus Hart seed not to have expected Sophie to co out at this ti. A fleeting look of panic, as if she’d been caught red-handed, crossed her face and then vanished.
As she turned to leave, Sophie hooked the corner of her mouth. "Stop!"
Minimus Hart stopped in her tracks without turning around.
"How much did you eavesdrop just now?" Sophie narrowed her eyes, approaching Minimus Hart. She had been hiding outside Old Mr. Standford’s room.
She must have heard their conversation. She probably also knew Sophie was about to undergo her second reparative surgery. If she did know and planned to sabotage the surgery, Sophie feared it would be difficult to guard against. Especially during the postoperative recovery period when she was most vulnerable.
"I didn’t..." Minimus Hart denied adamantly. Perhaps due to a guilty conscience, her reply was quick and rushed, as if she were desperately trying to cover sothing up.
Sophie’s expression darkened. She quickly walked around to stand in front of Minimus Hart. "Minimus Hart, whether you heard anything or not doesn’t matter. I caught you today, so your luck has run out."
Minimus Hart instinctively stepped back. "Sophie, what on earth are you planning to do?"
"What do you think?" Sophie closed in on her, step by step.
Minimus Hart’s expression tensed. She knew Sophie was devising another sche against her. She began to regret coming here, and especially regretted eavesdropping on Sophie and George Stanford’s conversation.
"Fiona, what’s wrong?"
George Stanford stepped forward, positioning himself behind Minimus Hart. The two of them now had her surrounded.
Minimus Hart turned, her back pressing against the wall. She glanced at Sophie, then at George Stanford, her brow tightly furrowed.
"Old Mr. Standford, this is the culprit who put you in the ICU for several days last ti."
George Stanford’s interest was piqued. "Is that so?"
Sophie crossed her arms over her chest, ready to watch the drama unfold.
"Nonsense! Utter nonsense!" Minimus Hart vehently refuted Sophie.
She would never admit to what she had done.
George Stanford sohow produced a surgical knife. With a friendly smile, he pressed the cold blade against Minimus Hart’s face. "I think your face is quite ugly too. Since we’re already here, why don’t I do you a favor and fix it up a bit."
"You dare!" Minimus Hart trembled all over. If it hadn’t been for Thomas Shannon’s warning, she wouldn’t have been reduced to this state! She wouldn’t be cowering like this, subjected to humiliation by Sophie and George Stanford!
"Fiona, did you make this cut here?" George Stanford asked, looking at Sophie.
Sophie nodded with a smile. "From a professional standpoint, do you think it shows any technical skill?"
George Stanford clicked his tongue twice, shaking his head in disappointnt. "No aesthetic sense whatsoever."
"Then you make a beautiful one."
"That’s exactly what I intended." George Stanford chuckled.
Before Minimus Hart could even react or dodge, the surgical knife sliced across her face.
Fresh blood stread down.
An excruciating pain instantly spread across her face.
Minimus Hart scread in terror, "My face!"
George Stanford wiped the bloody surgical knife on her clothes. "There, now both sides of your face are symtrical. This cut is on the house, no charge."
With that said, George Stanford laughed cheerfully. "Fiona, let’s go for that walk."
"Alright!"
The two departed with an unconcerned air.
Leaning against the wall, Minimus Hart slowly sank to the ground, her hands trembling. She wanted to touch her face but didn’t dare.
Her face... it was ruined...
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