Nicole leaned against the headboard, and a nurse was feeding her porridge.

The wounds on her hands, face, and neck were still visible, but they were better and less swollen than before.

When Jarrod walked in, he hinted at the nurse to leave.

He took the bowl from the nurse and continued to feed Nicole.

He thought Nicole would reject him. But he didn't expect she didn't refuse at all. As soon as the spoon was in front of her, she opened her mouth obediently.

Perhaps because she ate too fast, some porridge flowed out from the corners of her mouth.

Jarrod put down the bowl, took a tissue, and wiped her mouth. He said, "Why are you acting like a child? Eat slowly. This food is all yours. No one will take it away from you."

As he spoke, he didn't realize that there was a hint of endearment in his voice.

Nicole was always like a prickly cat. She rarely behaved obediently in his presence. And when she finally did, he couldn't help but tease her.

But soon, he realized something was wrong. She never responded to all his words.

There was no expression on her scarred face. She was like a broken crystal doll that could break even at the slightest touch.

Jarrod was a bit frustrated, but he didn't show it. He picked up the bowl again and continued to feed her. Nicole ate silently.

After the last spoonful, Nicole's expression fluctuated for a moment.

Then, she made a retching sound.

She vomited all the porridge Jarrod had just fed her.

The sticky liquid was all over the bed and Jarrod's shirt and arms.

The strange smell of stomach acid permeated the air.

Jarrod's face darkened in an instant, and his eyebrows furrowed tightly as if he could crush a fly. But unexpectedly, he didn't throw his temper at Nicole.

Finally, Nicole no longer looked like a fragile crystal doll. Instead, she gripped the quilt tightly. Her face was as pale as a sheet, and she let out painful moans.

The nurse rushed to the ward when she heard the noise. And she was shocked by the scene in the ward.