She‘ll Feel Better If She Sees You
Rosalie had vaguely overheard Mrs. Zora‘s words over the phone. She was a little worried to hear that
Estie was not feeling well too. As soon as she heard Byron‘s request, she turned the car around and
sped up toward Lawrence Manor.
Twenty minutes later, the car came to a gradual stop outside Lawrence Manor. Rosalie was worried
about the little girl, so she looked at the man beside her rather anxiously. “Take care of Estie, and feel
free to call me anytime if you need me.”
Byron looked at her meaningfully. “If you‘re so worried, why don‘t you come in with me? Besides, Estie
obviously adores you. She‘s unwell now, but she‘ll probably feel better if she sees you.” With that, he
opened the door and stepped out of the car, heading toward the manor on his own.
He seemed to be telling her that it was up to her whether she wanted to go inside or not. He would not
force her either way.
Rosalia frowned slightly as she watched him walk away. If Estie was feeling unwell, shouldn‘t he ask
her mother to visit her? No matter how busy Wendy was, she would not abandon her sick child.
Then again, Rosalie could not stand the thought of that little girl lying sick in bed right now, so she got
out of the car and followed Byron into the manor.
As soon as Byron stepped through the door, Mrs. Zora greeted him with Estie in her arms.
“You‘re finally home, Master! The Little Lady is feeling so sick, and I told her to rest in bed, but she
insisted on waiting for you to come home. I had no choice but to wait here with her.”
Estie‘s face was bright red, and there was a cooling patch on her forehead. She looked very weak.
When she saw her Daddy, she immediately held out her hands for a hug.
Byron took her into his arms and touched her to gauge her temperature. He frowned slightly.” How did
she come down with a fever all of a sudden?”
Mrs. Zora looked at the Little Lady in his arms worriedly. “When she returned home from kindergarten
at night, she already looked a little out of sorts. She didn‘t eat too much for dinner, either. I thought she
was just sleepy, and it was only when I brought her upstairs for her bath that I realized she was running
a low fever. I called the family doctor over and got her a prescription, but she still insisted on waiting for
you to come home before she would go to bed.”
Byron nodded and patted Estie‘s back, asking concernedly, “Do you still feel unwell?” Estie hugged her
Daddy‘s neck with both her arms, burying her face in his shoulder and nodding pitifully. Byron rubbed
her head to comfort her. “Since you‘re back, Master, please take her upstairs to rest,” Mrs. Zora said,
hurrying him. Byron hesitated for a moment. “Wait just a bit longer.” Mrs. Zora looked at him, puzzled.
She did not know what he was waiting for. As she was growing anxious and impatient, she heard some
more footsteps coming from the door.
It sounded like a woman. The three of them turned to look at the doorway in unison. When Byron saw
who it was, his gaze grew a few shades warmer. Mrs. Zora was completely taken aback, however. She
could barely believe her eyes. Rosalie met their three gazes as soon as she set foot in the manor. She
paused mid–step. When she realized that the interior did not look that different from when she left, her
feelings became even more complicated. Six years ago, she called this place home. She had lived
here for a few years, after all.
Although Byron was indifferent to her the entire time, he closed one eye to everything else she did
outside of their relationship. Throughout the years she had lived here, she had left her mark on the
decor around the manor. She had assumed that he would remove all traces of her presence once she
left, but now that she was back here after six long years, she was surprised to find those things exactly
where she left them.
She looked around briefly and then pulled her gaze back somewhat self–deprecatingly. She could not
believe she actually felt nostalgic for those old things. Perhaps Byron never changed them because he
never paid them any heed in the first place.
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