Your Regrets Won't Bring Me Back - Chapter 106: Chapter 106

With the paperwork done, the team Samuel Shaw had dispatched arrived to escort them.
Samuel's hospital was private yet ranked among the finest nationwide. Elena had heard of it but had never set foot inside, nor met Samuel Shaw before today.
Slim-framed, wearing rimless glasses, he had the gentle looks of a scholar, though his casual speech contrasted with the strict professionalism he displayed at work.
Dressed in a white lab coat, he walked in and stared at Elena on the bed as though examining something curious.
Simon shot him a warning look. "Give her a full examination."
Grinning, Samuel told Elena, "Young lady, I'm Samuel Shaw—Simon's childhood buddy. You can call me—"
"I asked for an exam, not a biography!" Simon snapped, giving Samuel a swift kick to the calf.
Samuel hopped out of reach, circled to the other side of the bed, and went on, "What's your name?"
She smiled faintly. "Elena Bennett."
"Elena, then. You can just call me Sam."
Simon snorted. "Who the hell is going to call you Sam?" He folded his arms and added coolly, "Maybe I should take back that equipment I donated to your hospital."
Samuel gave an awkward chuckle and shut his mouth.
To Elena he said gently, "Lie back and rest for a bit—I'll be back to run your tests soon."
Then he shot Simon a meaningful smile.
Samuel returned with several nurses and began the examination.
Only then did he realize how many injuries marked Elena's body; the scars had accumulated over years. He couldn't help glancing at Simon.
Simon's gaze fixed on those pale ridges, his eyes murderous, as though he might devour whoever had done this.
Samuel wisely asked no questions.
The further the exam progressed, the darker Samuel's expression became. Simon frowned. "What is it?"
Samuel pressed his brows together. "It's fairly serious."
"How serious?" Simon demanded.
"Her stomach is in bad shape. She had surgery not long ago, but before it could heal she was injured again. Now the gastric lining is badly compromised, so anything she eats is hard to digest."
He looked at Elena gravely. "She's also been chronically malnourished; if this continues, her whole system will deteriorate."
Simon's breaths grew heavier, the corners of his eyes turning red.
"So how do we fix it?" he asked.
Samuel rubbed his chin. "Leave the medical plan to me, but her diet needs strict care. She can start with liquids today—some porridge, the softer the better."
"I'll go buy some now," Simon said at once.
"Whoa, whoa—store-bought porridge is filthy," Samuel warned. "You'd better cook it yourself."
Elena's eyes widened; she waved her hands. "No, really—that's not necessary. I'm not that delicate."
She had rested for an entire day and already felt much better; her appetite had come back as well.
She still wanted nothing greasy or heavy, but at least she was hungry and no longer needed to be quite so restrictive.
"Listen to him," Simon Whitmore said, his tone brooking no argument as he looked at her.
Simon turned on his heel, intending to cook a pot of porridge.
"Hey, don't rush off... there's one more thing you need to know," Samuel Shaw called after him.
Samuel's hospital was private yet ranked among the finest nationwide. Elena had heard of it but had never set foot inside, nor met Samuel before today.