Dylan hurriedly carried me back to the room and threw me into the bathroom.

He turned on the showerhead. The icy water poured down on my head.

The water made it hard for me to breathe.

Memories of Waylon grabbing my hair and pushing me into the sewage flashed in my mind.

I curled up in terror. "Don't hit me. I was wrong. I won't do it again..."

Dylan froze.

After a while, he reached out to push the wet hair away from my face.

"Get away! Don't touch me!"

I screamed hysterically.

Suddenly, everything went black, and I collapsed backward.

A pair of arms caught me and pulled me into an embrace. I heard a man's anxious voice, "Chloe!"

I lost consciousness.

I didn't know how much time had passed, but I vaguely heard Dylan talking to the doctor.

"Mr. Phillips, Miss Morgan's right leg is an old injury. Her leg was broken, but it wasn't treated in time. The bone has healed incorrectly, which affects her ability to walk. Additionally, she has been overworked for a long time, is malnourished, and her body is very weak. She needs proper care."

"Broken leg, overworked, malnourished..."

Dylan repeated the doctor's words in disbelief.

"How is this possible? Even if the conditions in the village were poor, she shouldn't have ended up like this. Besides, I gave them specific orders..."

The doctor's expression was complicated. "Mr. Phillips, don't you... understand?"