Autumn stayed silent under the nurse’s scolding, knowing the nurse was only upset because Ginny, at her age, now had to be stuck with a new needle again.
It wasn’t a pleasant thought.
Once the nurse had replaced the IV and left, Autumn looked at her grandmother, eyes closed and resting weakly, her heart filled with conflicting emotions.
Seeing Autumn there tending to her, and with Ginny already asleep, Irene said, “Miss, it’s almost noon. I’ll go back and make lunch, then bring it over.”
“Alright.” Autumn nodded.
She quietly watched her grandmother’s face, glancing now and then at the IV bag above, careful as if afraid to disturb the elderly woman in bed.
Her mind drifted back to what had happened on the rooftop earlier.
It seemed the doctor had been about to reveal her grandmother’s condition, but Ginny had stepped in to stop him, as if deliberately hiding something from her.
That left Autumn uneasy.
Ginny’s health was poor, but no one in the family truly knew her actual condition.
She had once thought Ginny kept it secret on purpose, but now she realized the Lewis family had simply never cared enough to find out.
Even before her grandmother’s leg had healed, they couldn’t wait to go on trips.
Clearly, they had never truly put Ginny’s well–being in their hearts.
At times, she genuinely felt sorry for her grandmother–after a lifetime of hard work, she was now sick and old,
with no one to care for her.
It was a sad thought.
Ginny only woke up when Irene returned.
Autumn helped her sit up and propped a pillow behind her back.
Irene took a thermos of oatmeal from her bag, the aroma drifting up.
Autumn took it, ready to sit down and feed her grandmother.
But Irene took the bowl back and urged her, “Miss, it’s already close to one. You should go have lunch. Leave this
to me.”
Reminded by Irene, Autumn suddenly felt a bit of discomfort in her stomach.
Without fussing, she took her own meal from the thermos and went to eat in the corner.
1/2
Irene’s cooking was excellent, and Autumn rarely ate as much as she did now.
Still, she knew she couldn’t eat too much or she’d feel unwell.
She threw the leftovers into the trash bin at the ward’s doorway, rinsed the lunch box, and then walked back
inside.
By then, Ginny had finished her oatmeal.
Having just woken from a nap, she looked a little more refreshed.
When she saw Autumn come in, she smiled and waved her over. “Autumn, come here. I have something to tell you.”
Autumn obediently walked over, handed the lunch box to Irene, and sat down by her grandmother’s bed.
She smoothed back the white strands of hair from Ginny’s forehead and asked with concern, “Grandma, what is it you want to tell me?”
Her grandmother’s condition fluctuated.
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