"Winona Wallace, what are you doing!"
An aged but still authoritative voice came from the entrance.
Hearing this voice, Winona Wallace was dumbstruck on the spot.
It was Mrs. Wallace, the matriarch of the Wallace family, her own grandmother.
Following was Bruce Wallace's slightly anxious voice, "Mom, it's nothing, Winona was careless…"
Ha, nothing.
Sheila Fletcher, clutching her forehead and sitting on the floor, pulled out a grim smile.
This Bruce Wallace was truly unconditionally spoiling Winona Wallace, watching with open eyes as Winona smashed a vase on her head, spilling blood, he could still say it was nothing.
"What nothing, she's spoiled by you, it's a bloody mess! Mrs. Hamilton, go help Madam up, call the personal doctor, and keep it quiet."
Mrs. Wallace swiftly arranged matters, and even Bruce Wallace dared not defy his own mother.
He could only listen as Mrs. Wallace arranged things.
