After hanging up the phone, Clara slowly walked back to the villa, leaning against the wall. The living room was empty; no one asked where she had been, no one cared about her wound. She found the first-aid kit herself, clumsily unwrapped the gauze, and tried to bandage herself—the wound on her back was invisible, so she could only feel her way around. When the alcohol swab touched the wound, the pain made her shudder, and tears almost welled up in her eyes. Before, when she injured herself while dancing, Liam would carefully treat her wound, blowing on it and scolding her, "How could you be so careless?" But now, the person who would have cared for her was by another woman's side.
After the wound was finally bandaged, Dr. Zhang arrived. While re-treating the wound, Dr. Zhang couldn't help but sigh, "Madam, this wound is quite deep; any later and it might get infected. Mr. Liam ... didn't he see it?"
Clara didn't speak, she just closed her eyes. She didn't want to mention Liam again ; every time she did, it felt like a stab to her heart.