Chapter 288

Grace's face flushed. Subconsciously, she wanted to look away. However, his fingers were instantly under her chin. "Sis seemed to be watching me intently just now. Why? Do you think I'm good-looking?"

She choked. How could she answer? Should she say he was good-looking, or not? Neither seemed like a good option! Her face burned as she tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid his gaze.

The servant nearby discreetly looked down, but the conversation stirred a tempest in her heart. Young Master Reed treated Miss Cummins differently. Was it true, as some rumored, that Miss Cummins would one day be the mistress of the Reed family? But wasn't Miss Cummins a sanitation worker at the Sanitation Service Center? Could Young Master Reed possibly marry such a woman?

That night, Grace lay awake in bed, examining her gauze-wrapped fingers in the moonlight. Jason had been changing her dressings. He was far more attentive than Sean Stevens had ever been, and sometimes she found herself daydreaming. If he weren't Jason, if he were someone else, perhaps she would fall in love with him. After all, few women could resist a charming and attentive man. But because it was Jason, and because a lingering fear remained, she constantly reminded herself to stay grounded.

'After my hand heals, I'll leave immediately,' Grace thought.

The next day, she searched online for food delivery rider jobs and created a resume. The requirements were relatively low, but all positions demanded a health certificate. She needed a trip to the hospital. Come to think of it, she seemed to be visiting the hospital quite often lately.

The health certificate and basic tests would cost money. As her funds dwindled, each dollar became more precious.

Two days later, the gauze was removed, leaving faint scars. Jason held her fingers, staring at the marks. "I'll ask the hospital to prescribe something to remove the scars. It shouldn't be a problem."

"It doesn't matter if they can't be removed," Grace said. She was happy to trade the scars for half the album.

"You may not mind, but I do," he muttered. The scars reminded him of his mistake. If he'd insisted on walking her home that day, she wouldn't have been injured.

"I want Sis to be perfectly fine, not an inch hurt," he murmured.

She almost laughed. Not an inch hurt? She'd been horribly hurt in prison!

"My hand's practically healed. When can I return to the rental house?" she asked, changing the subject.