Adelyn knew that nothing happened without a reason.
Her expression turned serious as she stared at Dylan and asked, "What was it, Mr. Warren? Is it something serious?"
Dylan met her gaze for a moment before shaking his head.
"Nothing serious. But it isn't something you can afford to ignore either."
Her brows knitted even more tightly in confusion.
However, she didn't rush him for an explanation. Instead, she waited patiently for him to continue on his own.
Dylan's eyes briefly moved over her face before dropping to her hand, which was still lightly wrapped in a bandage.
"It was the wound on your hand," he finally said.
Adelyn followed his gaze and looked down at her own hand.
"The wound on my hand?" she repeated, still unable to understand. "What does that have to do with my fever?"
Dylan slowly resumed his breakfast, his movements as calm and unhurried as ever.
