"Yvonne, please, don't scare me." Joe hesitated as he reached for her hand, afraid that he might frighten her, and pulled back.

Yvonne giggled absentmindedly. "I'm not Yvonne. I'm Little Sister." She got out of bed and wandered over to the couch.

She picked up a cup of water from the table, not even aware of how long it had been sitting there or who had drunk from it. Joe hurried over and snatched the cup away. Yvonne looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears.

Joe quickly fetched a fresh cup, his voice soft and soothing. "Here, take this. You want some water, right? I'll pour it for you."

"Water, I want water," she said in a childlike tone, completely unaware of how deeply it pained Joe to see her like this.

The sight of her, so lost and broken, made his chest ache. He regretted not stopping Winona when he had the chance. He blamed himself for what had happened to Yvonne. Gently brushing her hair from her forehead, a thought began to form in Joe's mind. He wanted to keep Yvonne by his side.

Nina could intervene. But things didn't

the commotion. Seeing the evaluation report on the table,

already? Now you want to keep her close? Are you out of your mind?" Nina's anger flared, though her own condition made her hold

grabbed the report, reading it again and again, desperate to deny what was right in front of him. The words stared back at him. Yvonne

hands, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Don't act like the hero

him down. But the more he said it, the heavier it felt, especially under the scorn in

even bother. Yvonne's my

care of yourself, let

had even arrived in a wheelchair today. She wasn't in

her throat, Nina replied calmly, "I can hire help. Whatever Yvonne needs, I'll provide it. No matter

But this isn't about

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