"Really, really, tomorrow morning's private plane, I might go to the hospital first, and then go home."
"Why are you going to the hospital?" Timmy furrowed his brows.
"Because an uncle, who is a good friend of mine, is seriously ill. I have to take him to the hospital first."
"A man?" Timmy's voice suddenly rose. "Will my dad go too?"
"He won't, he has his own things to do."
"Oh..." Timmy's voice stretched particularly long.
Melody Thorne hung up the phone, Timmy always seemed precocious, who knew what he was thinking.
"You rest first," Melody Thorne turned back, "if you feel uncomfortable anywhere, tell the doctor."
Hans Montrose didn't say much; from the start, he just wanted Melody Thorne to stay with him.
Morning.
Melody Thorne hugged Howard Seymour and the old man, "Grandpa, Dad, I'll come to see you when I have time, take care of yourselves."
