Winifred Dawson woke up. The happiest person about this was undoubtedly Mrs. Protich, who had been caring for her all day. She stayed on her feet as much as possible, only sitting down when exhausted, her eyes constantly on the medication bottles. Doctors and nurses frequently checked in on the room.
Henry had already dragged Wesley to the door but immediately let go and returned to the room upon hearing Mrs. Protich’s voice.
He and Wesley stood a couple of meters away from the foot of the bed, not approaching any closer.
Winifred Dawson was at her weakest after childbirth. Henry knew she didn’t like them and feared their sudden appearance might upset her. Despite his usually carefree demeanor, he could be quite considerate when it mattered.
His concern wasn’t out of care for Winifred Dawson but because Leland Burns had warned them that nothing should happen to her. They needed her to be safe before they could leave. If something happened to Winifred Dawson at this critical moment, he might never get away.
Henry paid attention to Leland Burns’ words.
Winifred Dawson was allergic to anesthesia. During surgery, she only took painkillers and used a pain relief stick but did not receive anesthesia. These measures couldn’t compare to the effects of anesthesia, which temporarily numbs pain, allowing surgery without discomfort. Full-body anesthesia makes a person feel like they are in deep sleep, devoid of any pain or discomfort.
Painkillers work differently; they stop pain after it starts and allow one to feel skin reactions. This meant that during surgery, Winifred Dawson remained conscious and felt almost every part of the process, including the sensation of the fetus leaving her body.
Just thinking about it was excruciating and terrifying.
Henry found himself somewhat admiring Winifred Dawson.
In his mind, she had always been a pampered princess who couldn’t endure any hardship, similar to the Princess and the Pea.
Now, Winifred Dawson seemed entirely different from what he initially imagined.
But then again, Winifred Dawson had always been ruthless with herself. To manipulate Leland Burns and remove the wristwatch with a locator, she had once used two thugs to break her own hands capable of drawing.
To make Leland Burns believe in her trustworthiness, she inflicted severe injuries on herself, pretending to be disabled and playing dumb for six months under Leland Burns’ watch. If anyone heard this story, they would find it hard to believe.
Henry’s feelings toward Winifred Dawson were complicated. In some ways, only someone like Winifred Dawson could match Leland Burns. She was stunningly beautiful like a delicate doll that caught everyone’s eye. Standing next to the equally handsome Leland Burns, they seemed like a perfect pair.
Their personalities and ways of doing things were very similar-a double-edged sword. Two people so alike could either love each other deeply or end up destroying each other.
Unfortunately, hatred stood between Winifred Dawson and Leland Burns, making love impossible and leaving only room for conflict.
Winifred Dawson had just woken up and wasn’t fully conscious yet. She didn’t know where she was for a moment; her vision went black after opening her eyes briefly. She closed them again until she adjusted to the light before reopening them.
Noticing Winifred Dawson’s discomfort with the light, Mrs. Protich quickly stood in front of her. “Miss Dawson, are you dizzy? Do you feel unwell? Are you thirsty? Would you like some water?”
Winifred Dawson stared at Mrs. Protich for a while before hoarsely calling out, “Mrs. Protich…”
“Yes, Miss Dawson. I’ll get you some water.”
Winifred Dawson’s voice was terribly hoarse; it used to be soft and pleasant.
Her gaze followed Mrs. Protich as she walked away and noticed Henry and Wesley standing not far off.
Then memories flooded back into her mind like a torrent, filling it up instantly. Her brain felt like an overinflated balloon about to burst from too much information. Unable to bear the pain, she cried out as her face twisted in agony.
Mrs. Protich jumped in fright upon seeing Winifred Dawson’s state after fetching water.
“Miss Dawson, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell? Hold on; I’ll get the doctor.” In her panic, Mrs. Protich forgot there was a call button by the bedside that would summon nurses and doctors with a press; she hurriedly ran out instead.
Seeing Winifred Dawson in such distress made Henry’s heart sink: Could it be that they really wouldn’t be able to leave?
Mrs. Protich quickly returned with a doctor while Winifred Dawson’s headache subsided as fast as it came.
After the doctor left again, Winifred Dawson looked at her hands and said, “There’s blood on my hands.”
Mrs. Protich assumed it was from an injection site on her hand that hadn’t stopped bleeding yet; she checked but found nothing: no blood at all on either hand or even on the bandages covering old wounds.
“No blood…”
Winifred Dawson stared blankly ahead as her eyelashes trembled: “There is blood-a lot of blood-the baby’s blood…” She remembered crashing into a cabinet causing severe abdominal pain followed by streams of blood running down her legs; trying desperately to stop it with her hands only resulted in them being covered in sticky blood instead.
Mrs. Protich felt a pang in her heart; as a mother herself who understood how painful losing a child could be-seeing Winifred Dawson like this made it clear she couldn’t accept losing hers either.
She didn’t know how best to comfort Winifred Dawson now.
Originally thinking Winifred didn’t care about this baby since she’d decided on an abortion earlier-what difference did losing it sooner or later make?
But reality proved otherwise-Winifred cared deeply about this child regardless of its father’s identity simply because it grew inside her making her feel what motherhood meant despite having no other family ties-the baby connected them by bloodline significance alone…
Unexpected events always come suddenly-and perhaps even Winifred herself hadn’t realized how much she cared until now…
But once lost-it’s gone forever-no matter how much sorrow follows-it won’t bring back what’s lost…
Mrs. Protich struggled finding words comforting enough for grieving over dead children-she could only say: “It’s okay-you can have more children later.”
Winifred painfully closed eyes…
Future children wouldn’t replace this one…
Not same…
Winifred’s reaction surprised Henry-it wasn’t what he expected at all-thinking she’d be cold-blooded towards Leland Burn’s child filled more with hatred than anything else-but seeing how much she cared now shocked him…
Wasn’t she just pretending?
He couldn’t help thinking so given how convincingly good actress Winifred was-even fooling everyone playing dumb before…