Sorry for Your Loss, It's Me, I'm the Loss novel Chapter 97

“If you feel so strongly, go pay him a visit at his home,” Yvonne replied coolly.

“Oh, we don’t need to be so formal. When is he coming to the hospital? I could thank him in person then,” Queena said.

The Thompson family was in a league of their own. Queena didn’t even know where they lived, let alone have any hope of getting past their front gate.

Yvonne had no patience for her games. She closed her eyes and turned her back.

“Yvonne is still weak. If you don’t have anything else, you should probably go and let her rest,” Helen said, tactfully dismissing them.

After they left, Helen sat by the bed, peeling an apple for Yvonne. “Is that really your mother?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity. Most mothers would be at their daughter’s bedside day and night after surgery, but Teresa had offered a few empty words and then left.

Yvonne took a bite of the apple, a small, bitter laugh escaping her. “I wish she weren’t.” Without the bond of blood, there would be no room for disappointment.

Teresa didn’t visit again, likely too busy with shopping and card games. Queena, however, made several trips to the hospital, each time dressed to impress, but she never managed to run into Bennett.

“Yvonne, why hasn’t Mr. Thompson been to the hospital? He saved you, and I haven’t had a chance to thank him properly,” Queena finally asked, unable to contain her impatience.

Yvonne, munching on an apple, snorted. “Are you addicted to playing the role of the perfect sister? How exactly do you plan on thanking Bennett? By washing yourself up and serving yourself to him on a platter?”

“Young girls these days have no shame,” Helen muttered under her breath. “Throwing themselves at men like that. So cheap. The master has seen all kinds of women. Someone like her wouldn’t even register on his radar.”

Queena never came back to the hospital. Sandra, on the other hand, visited every day, always bringing homemade soup. Today’s was a fragrant lotus root and pork rib soup. As she handed it to Yvonne, she asked, “I just spoke with your doctor. He said you’re recovering well. When are you planning to be discharged?”

“Next week, probably. I’ve scheduled my scar removal surgery,” Yvonne replied, sipping the soup.

This body was covered in ugly scars from years of abuse. The original Yvonne had been too timid and ashamed to show them, secretly saving up for surgery she never lived to have. Yvonne, however, wasn’t ashamed. She simply loved beautiful things and wanted to wear pretty dresses. Since she was already in the hospital, it was the perfect time to have it done.