Vanessa heard her eldest son shouting from the courtyard and hurried out, wiping her hands on her apron as she went.
The moment she stepped out, she froze.
Neal was standing there, drenched in sweat, carrying a young woman on his back. The woman's head lolled weakly against his shoulder, her hair sticking to her pale cheeks. She looked like she had just been dragged out of the river, lifeless and cold, as if her soul might slip away at any second.
Vanessa's heart jumped in alarm.
"Where did you bring this girl from?" she asked, rushing forward. Her eyes darted over the woman's soaked clothes and unconscious face, and her voice lowered instinctively. "Is she dying? Son, our family doesn't have money to treat anyone!"
Neal blankly stared at her as if he was saying seriously? Where was that 500 pounds of money that Mary gave you?
But in the next second, without answering anything, he grunted, his breathing heavy as he carried the girl straight into the house.
