The hospital room was silent, no one would give her an answer.
The boy she waited eight years for would never come back;
And her mother had long forgotten the way home.
Daisy Ginger opened the door and calmly left the hospital room.
The female nurse sat on the bench; seeing her come out, she stood up in a fluster, only to see Daisy walking past her without a glance, leaving without looking back.
There were no traces of sadness on her, her back straight as she left, high heels clicking on the tiles, composed and unhurried.
Carrying a faint yet intimidating aura.
She was still that young, billionaire Director Ginger.
Daisy Ginger returned home, and it was nearly midnight.
As she opened the door, she saw Charlotte Smith lying asleep on the sofa.
Hearing the door open, the petite woman slowly sat up and politely and properly called her, "Miss Ginger."
Daisy barely acknowledged her, just giving her a slight glance, then took off her black trench coat and hung it on the rack.
"Can’t you go find a hotel to stay for a night?" she said, "I don’t really like strangers sleeping in the same room with me."
Charlotte said softly, "I can just sleep in a corner. If Miss Ginger doesn’t like me sleeping on the sofa, I can sleep in the basement."
"That’s not necessary." Daisy wasn’t fond of maltreating others; just looking at her brought a faint annoyance, and she didn’t want to see those people from the Stephens family. "You can’t watch me twenty-four hours a day, is staying at my house helpful to you?"
"Sir sent me," Charlotte said, "If Miss Ginger is dissatisfied, I can give you his phone number."
"..." Complain directly to Robert Stephens?
Daisy was stifled by the remark, giving Charlotte a glance.
This one seemed honest but had a sting in her core, not as submissive as she appeared.
Daisy chuckled coldly, ignoring Charlotte, she didn’t care where she slept, as she headed upstairs.
Halfway up, she remembered something, stopped on the stairs, and said to Charlotte, "I don’t like strangers entering my room at will, don’t come upstairs anymore."
Charlotte responded, "Alright, Miss Ginger."
Daisy went upstairs and took a shower.
Perhaps she had slept a bit after returning, the jet lag hadn’t adjusted yet, and at half-past midnight, she felt no drowsiness.
Even after half a month, no matter how great the pain, it should have been digested by now.
She could feel herself gradually accepting reality.
Yet being alone, the huge wound in her heart gradually spread, like a black hole pulling all her emotions into despair.
As if to fill this void, Daisy got up from bed, her face slightly pale, opened the wardrobe, and retrieved the album resting at the very bottom.
Lady Stephens had once told her, in order not to agitate Edward Stephens, it was best not to let him know the past. Fearing it would hurt him, even after being married to him for so long, she didn’t dare to take out the album for a secret look, fearing he’d see it and get upset.
Looking back now, she really was naively foolish.
There was no agitation; it was just Lady Stephens afraid the lies would be exposed, unable to cover them up, so she asked her to hide the past from Edward.
And this lie was so simple, Edward only needed to investigate a little to know all the truth of the past.
It’s just that back then, he initially wasn’t interested, and later, he deliberately hid it. Follow current ɴᴏᴠᴇʟs on 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡·𝕗𝕚𝕣𝕖·𝔫𝔢𝔱
In the end, the only one truly deceived was just her, the big fool.