Thomas Shannon nodded, knocked on the door, then pushed it open and went in.
Edward Benson, who had been staring blankly at Isla Stanley's profile, came back to his senses when he heard the noise.
"Edward, how are you feeling?"
Edward Benson struggled to sit up; the nurse immediately helped him up and stuffed a pillow behind his waist.
"I'm fine." Edward Benson gave a faint smile, though his facial color was still very pale.
Thomas Shannon's gaze fell on his legs, then he casually glanced at Isla Stanley. She was sitting on sofa, never once looking over.
With a cold snort, he sat down at the bedside. "How come no one even poured you a cup of water?"
The nurse trembled all over. "Young Master, I'll immediately…"
Thomas Shannon's cold eyes darkened. He raised his hand to cut her off, and the nurse, shaking with fear, took a step back and lowered her head to stand properly.
Edward Benson frowned, knowing who he was talking about. "Thomas Shannon, I don't want to drink water."
