“Ms. Flores? Ms. Flores?”
Dolores heard a voice calling her, pulling her out of her daze. She slowly opened her eyes, finding Amelia standing beside her bed, leaning forward. Seeing Dolores awake, she smiled and said, “You’re awake.”
Dolores shifted and sat up in bed, rubbing her eyes to clear her head. She asked, “What time is it?”
“It’s noon, twelve o’clock. You’ve been sleeping all morning. You should eat something,” Amelia replied respectfully. She treated Dolores with care as instructed by the young master and didn’t dare mistreat her.
“Could I have a glass of water, please?” Dolores wasn’t hungry. After just waking up, she felt her throat dry.
“Of course.” Amelia turned around and fetched some water for her.
As Dolores saw Amelia’s figure disappear through the doorway, she lifted the quilt and got out of bed. Her injured foot was wrapped in bandages, and her twisted ankle remained red and swollen. She pressed it lightly with her fingers, feeling a sharp pain. Frowning, she realized that her recovery wouldn’t be quick.
She leaned on her uninjured foot, attempting to stand up.
“Do you want to be a cripple?” Dolores heard the deep voice of the man from the doorway.
She looked up and saw the man in the wheelchair.
He operated the wheelchair to enter the room. “You’ve injured the periosteum of your ankle. If you continue to force yourself to stand, it will take ten days to half a month to recover. If it worsens, you’ll end up… like me.”
He spoke the last words with a tinge of self-mockery, raising his voice. “Being confined to a wheelchair is no joyous matter.”
Dolores settled back down. “I was just trying.”
“Ms. Flores, here’s your water,” Amelia returned with a glass of water.
Dolores accepted it and said, “Thank you, Amelia.”
“Ms. Flores, you’re the Young Master’s guest. It’s my duty to serve you well,” Amelia replied with a smile. She glanced at Charles while speaking but quickly averted her gaze, aware of Dolores’s presence.
Dolores noticed the interaction but pretended not to, focusing on the glass of water in her hand as she took a sip to quench her thirst.
“Ms. Flores, you must be hungry,” Amelia said, placing a tray table over the quilt. “Since your foot is injured and you can’t walk, the Young Master asked me to bring the food here.”
Dolores glanced at Charles and expressed her gratitude. “Thank you.”
Charles raised an eyebrow. “You’re welcome. In this vast world, it seems we were fated to meet. Just stay here and recover. Once you’re well, I’ll arrange for your return home. By the way, where are you from, Ms. Flores?”
“I’m from City B,” Dolores answered truthfully.
She was perplexed. He didn’t allow her to make a phone call, yet he said he would send her back home. She wondered what he had in mind.
“City B?” Charles repeated slowly, his gaze once again drawn to the jade bracelet on Dolores’s wrist. He seemed lost in thought.
“Pardon me, Mr. White. Is something the matter?” Dolores inquired.
Charles snapped out of his thoughts and gave a faint smile. “Nothing important. It was just a passing thought.” He looked at Dolores and asked, “Do I seem quite old?”
Dolores was taken aback.
His question confused her, and she couldn’t discern its intention.
“I’m only twenty-six years old. Yet, you referred to me as Mr. White. I thought I appeared over thirty,” Charles continued before Dolores could respond. “Please call me Charles.”
Dolores fell silent, unsure of how to address him. Calling him by his first name seemed too intimate, but using a formal title like Mr. White felt too distant.
“Why? I saved your life, yet you hesitate to call me by my name. You’re more comfortable giving me an old-fashioned title, aren’t you?” Charles’s tone was serious, but his eyes held no hint of reproach.
Dolores looked down, contemplating her response. “I simply felt calling you by your first name would be too intimate.”
“Intimate? Not at all. Besides, addressing me as Mr. White won’t do. Do you want to resort to ‘hey’ or ‘um’?” Charles teased with a smile.
Dolores couldn’t help but find his playfulness amusing.
“Fine, I’ll call you Charles,” she conceded, meeting his expectant gaze.
Charles appeared pleased, a bright smile gracing his face.
Dolores pressed her lips, realizing that she could fulfill his request to show her gratitude for saving her life. She hesitated for a moment before finally uttering, “Charles?”
“No need for a surname,” he said, his voice filled with warmth.
Dolores couldn’t help but inwardly complain about Charles. He certainly had a lot of requirements, didn’t he?
She gritted her teeth. “Charles.”
“I like it,” he replied, smiling brightly.
Dolores wanted to retort, wondering why he responded that way.
But out of gratitude for saving her life, she chose to remain silent.
As Amelia entered the room with the dishes, she heard Charles’s laughter. Unable to help herself, she glanced at Dolores. Not only did the young master treat her so well, but he also laughed so happily because of this woman. Amelia couldn’t help but wonder who this woman was and what her relationship with the young master was.
In her confusion, Amelia placed the dishes on the tray table.
“I don’t know your favorite food. Let me know if there’s anything you’d like to eat, and I’ll ask the chef to prepare it for you,” Charles offered.
Dolores, however, didn’t want to trouble him. She intended to repay his kindness sooner or later and didn’t want to owe him too much. Besides, she wasn’t particularly picky when it came to food.
“I’m not picky. Anything will do,” Dolores replied with a smile.
It was evident that she was creating some distance between them. Charles didn’t get angry and simply said, “Alright. If you need anything, feel free to let me know.”
“Sure.”
After lunch, Dolores found herself feeling bored lying in bed. She looked out the window, contemplating how she could get in touch with Samuel.
She wondered why Charles refused to lend her the phone.
What was his intention?
“Right this way, please.” Dolores heard Amelia’s voice from outside the door. Amelia entered, followed by two workers carrying a fish tank.
Amelia instructed them, “Place it next to the bed.”
Once the installation was complete, the workers left. Dolores asked, “What’s this for?”
“The young master mentioned that since you can’t leave the bed, you must be quite bored in the room. He arranged for these rare fish to keep you entertained,” Amelia explained, standing in front of Dolores’s bed. Envy tinged her voice as she continued, “The young master treats you so well.”
Amelia had never seen Charles treat anyone else so kindly, especially a woman.
Dolores gazed at the fish swimming in the tank. There were three of them, displaying vibrant colors and unique appearances. She had never seen such exotic fish in an aquarium before-they were undoubtedly rare and valuable.
However, Dolores couldn’t find joy in them. No merit, no reward. Charles was treating her too well, and she couldn’t help but feel uneasy.
“Aren’t you happy, Ms. Flores?” Amelia asked, noticing Dolores’s lack of expression and absence of a smile.
“Yes, I am,” Dolores forced a wry smile.
“Ms. Flores, have you met the young master before?” Amelia finally asked the question that had been bothering her.
She had been working for the White family for a long time, yet she had never heard of Dolores or come across her. It didn’t make sense for the young master to treat Dolores so well after only meeting her once, did it?
Dolores shook her head. “Why do you ask?”
“I can’t help but feel that the young master treats you too well. If he didn’t know you, why would he be so kind to you after saving your life?” Amelia voiced her confusion.
This matter had also puzzled Dolores.
She reached out and toyed with the fish’s tail, causing it to dart away.
Dolores was curious about Charles, but she hid her curiosity behind a neutral expression.”I don’t know,” Dolores replied indifferently. “Your young master seems like a kind person. Perhaps he’s just helping me out until the end.”
Amelia remained unconvinced. She believed there must be more to the story than Dolores was letting on.
“Or maybe there’s something else?” Dolores looked up at Amelia, her gaze steady.
Amelia was left speechless.
“Forget it,” she finally conceded, feeling frustrated by the lack of answers. Turning around, she walked out of the room.
Dolores grabbed a tissue to dry her hands. She lifted the quilt and carefully got off the bed, using the nightstand for support. Balancing on her uninjured foot, she took small, cautious steps toward the door.
The house appeared quite spacious, and since Charles couldn’t walk, Dolores didn’t expect him to stay on the upper floors. With Amelia absent and no one in the large living room, Dolores spotted a landline phone on a corner table near the sofa.
Her eyes lit up. This was her chance to contact Samuel. She looked around, making sure there was no one nearby, then used the wall for support as she slowly made her way toward the phone.
Moving into the living room with ease, she leaned against the sofa for stability and reached out to grab the phone.