Amelia Foster observed that her daughter's condition seemed to have slightly improved. Although she breathed a sigh of relief, since Jeremiah May was nearby, Amelia felt uneasy. "Sir, I'm sorry, Nan Nan is naïve; she was just uncomfortable, so she grabbed your hand."
Jeremiah May replied indifferently, "I know." The little girl's grip was not as strong as before, but she still didn't let go.
Amelia Foster didn't know what else to say, so she simply took out her handkerchief to wipe her daughter's sweat. The little girl was already drenched in sweat, with her forehead wet. Amelia carefully wiped the sweat from her daughter's face and forehead, especially gingerly wiping around the scar on her daughter's forehead.
As Amelia wiped the scar, Jeremiah May's gaze unwittingly fell on that scar again.
"How did she get that scar?" he abruptly asked.
