Chapter 4

As for why Rita showed up today, I was well aware.

She probably thought that since Sarah's condition had improved, they no longer needed to pretend to care for her. So, she rushed over to act as the good wife and good son in front of Sarah.

After all, when she came, I made sure to glance a few times.

She didn't even bother bringing a box of supplements or anything. She showed up empty-handed.

I sat outside for a long while, watching as the evening sky grew darker.

It wasn't until I realized how late it had gotten that I slowly walked back into the hospital.

However, when I returned to the room, I found that neither Sarah nor Rita were there.

Since Sarah wasn't due for discharge yet, and with it being so late, where could Rita have taken her?

With this question in mind, I quickly pulled out my phone to call Rita.

But before I could dial, Joan Arnold, who was in the bed next to Sarah's, suddenly looked at me.

"Cynthia, Rita gave Sarah something to eat a while ago. Not long after, she started vomiting. They've taken her to the emergency room..." Joan's words froze me in place.

But as soon as I snapped back to my senses, I widened my eyes and rushed towards the ER, not even bothering to thank Joan.

By the time I reached the emergency room, I saw Rita sitting on a chair outside.

But I had no time to question her. Instead, I focused on calming myself down and waited anxiously at the door.

Fortunately, the panic didn't last long. The doctor came out quickly.

He removed his mask and calmly spoke to me, "We just induced vomiting in the patient. She's fine now. But you need to follow the doctor's advice on what to feed her. Don't give her anything random. She's elderly and can't handle this kind of stress repeatedly."

The doctor's tone held a hint of reproach, but once I heard that Sarah was okay, my worried heart finally eased.

Not bothering with further explanation, I kept nodding and thanking the doctor.

After the doctor left, I let out a long breath and turned to glare at Rita.

"What did you give Sarah to eat just now? What happened? Don't you know that she's elderly? If something serious had happened, it would have been too late by then!"

As I looked at Rita's careless attitude, my voice was filled with unmistakable reproach.

"Sarah told me you didn't feed her, and she was hungry. So, I ordered sandwiches and fried chicken for her. You know how much Sarah loves this kind of food." I noticed her pouting as if she was in the right, which made me even more frustrated.

"Even if she loves it, she should consider when it's appropriate. Sarah's in the hospital, and she needs to eat lighter to help with her recovery. Sandwiches are hard to digest, and with all the condiments, it's basically just going to upset her stomach. She's still taking medicine; how can her body handle such irritating food? And by the way, do you see anyone else eating like this in the hospital?"

Before I could finish my scolding, I heard Rita mumbling.

"I didn't come here to take care of her, how should I know? Besides, isn't she fine now? Do you really have to talk to me like this? Like I'm some kind of villain."

Her words instantly set my anger off. So now, her family didn't come to take care of Sarah, and yet they still had the nerve to complain?

Was I just supposed to suffer through this? Day and night, taking care of her?

Just as I was about to completely lose it and confront Rita, Sarah suddenly spoke up.

"Cynthia, that's enough. The doctor said everything was fine. And Rita didn't mean to, how could she know what Sarah can and can't eat? But I know in my heart, she's a good kid. She even remembers what I like to eat."

After saying this, Sarah looked at Rita with a loving gaze.

I couldn't help but think back to how, every time Sarah looked at me, there was nothing but cold indifference and disdain in her eyes.

When I saw this, the anger that had been building up inside me suddenly dissipated. If even Sarah, the one involved, wasn't bothered, why was I so worked up over it?

Realizing this, I quietly sat down on a chair beside the bed, not saying another word.