Dorothy glanced into his eyes, the corners of her lips curving into an uneasy smile.
"I trust you, you know." "As long as you do, that's all that matters.” "Yeah." Dorothy shifted her gaze away, pretending to focus on the computer screen. But her vision was getting more and more blurred.
As her tears threatened to spill, she stood up in panic and turned her back to Everett, "Oh, I just remembered I haven't washed my face after waking up. I'll go freshen up!" No sooner had Dorothy stepped into the restroom than the door opened again.
Quincy, concerned about Everett's injury—more about Everett himself—made a habit of checking in.
He walked in to find Everett alone in bed and paused, "Where's Ms. Sanchez?" "She's washing up." "Ah." Quincy stepped closer, slipping on medical gloves and began to inspect the wound with professional attentiveness.
Whether the patient was someone from the Lopez family or not, Quincy always maintained her compassion as a doctor.
Having lived abroad for so long, and with an elder brother to inherit her family estate, Quincy had learned to be content in any situation. She never really longed for romance, content with the thought of remaining single for life. But witnessing the connection between Everett and Dorothy, she began to reconsider the idea of love.
She mused if a guy like Everett were to fancy her, she'd probably say yes.
When Dorothy returned, she was greeted by the sight of Everett on the bed with Quincy carefully tending to his injuries and offering gentle reminders now and then.
A thought struck her: if Everett had feelings for Quincy, maybe the Lopez family had thrown a grand wedding by now to welcome her with open arms.
Maybe Amanda wouldn't favor Heather as much either.
"Ms. Sanchez." Quincy's voice snapped Dorothy out of her reverie.
"Hmm?" Dorothy quickly refocused, "What is it?" Quincy nodded towards Dorothy's pocket, "Your phone's been ringing. Didn't you hear it?" Dorothy gasped. Then, with an awkward smile, Dorothy excused herself and stepped out with her phone.
Looking at the screen, she saw it was Maxton Sanchez calling. She hung up without a second thought—she had nothing to discuss with him. But Maxton, who looked like a crazy man, kept calling back over and over again. Dorothy frowned as her frustration peaked, and she finally picked it up.
"Spit it out, what do you want?" "That's no way to talk to your father!" Maxton's tone was as accusatory as ever.
Dorothy wasn't in the mood for wasting time, "I'm hanging up if there's nothing important.” "I do have something!" Maxton's voice was tinged with desperation, "Have you seen your sister lately? I can't reach her, and your mom's worried sick. Thought you might help me find her." So, he was looking for Heather.
"I've seen her." "Where is she?" "In a warehouse. Your precious daughter has kidnapped my friend and my kid." Maxton paused and sounded totally disbelieving, "I'm serious here!" "I'm not joking either.” Dorothy's voice was icy, "I just regret not having the power to tear her to pieces. And here you are asking me for her?!" Heather had endangered Everett and pushed him close to death. If it weren't for Amanda's people whisking her away, Dorothy would have sought vengeance even if it meant going to jail herself! "How did you become a person like that? And you also want to kill your own sister, huh? Is this how Bella raised you?" Disgust dripped from Maxton's words.
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