Outside the hospital, the driver had been waiting at the back door for a while.
Seeing Baron Lawrence and Enna Clark coming out, he hurriedly opened the car door, "Lord, Ms. Clark."
As the dignified and proud man approached, the driver noticed the injury on the man's left face and was clearly taken aback for a moment.
The Lord injured?
Who did this?
He was momentarily stunned, then a chill ran down his spine as he felt a cold, stern gaze upon him. He immediately wiped the surprised expression off his face and lowered his head, afraid of sparking any ire.
"Baron Lawrence, is your face alright?" Enna Clark, oblivious to the driver's minor actions, asked worriedly as she pulled back on the man striding forward, hesitated for a moment, and added, "Shouldn't you get some ointment for that at the hospital first? And what about Grandpa, aren't you going to see him?"
No sooner had she spoken than the pressure on her wrist increased, as if intending to crush her bones.
