Albert escorted Jeslyn to the hospital.
After examining her, the doctor diagnosed acute pneumonia.
Being pals with Albert, he couldnât resist quipping, âHowâd she catch a cold in this weather? Beats me.
Albert, you have to take care of your family, even with a booming business to worry about.
â
Albert found himself at a loss for words.
He couldnât spill the beans that the kid wasnât his and her mom couldnât care less.
All Albert could manage was a bitter smile.
âI hear you.
â
The doctor nodded, jotting down orders for hospitalization.
âSheâll need to be admitted to hospital for three days and administered fluids.
If allâs well by then, she can be discharged.
â
Albert thanked the doctor and entrusted the baby to the servant before heading for admission.
Just before leaving, the doctor casually inquired, âWhereâs Jeslynâs mom? Why isnât she here?â
Albert gave a faint smile.
âSheâs probably tied up.
â
The doctor couldnât shake off those rumors.
He sighed inwardly, opting not to pry further.
Albert got Jeslyn checked in.
The room was a plush pink suite spanning one hundred and twenty square meters.
It screamed luxury, a super VIP childrenâs ward, costing an arm and a leg for just one night.
The servant adored Jeslyn dearly.
The servant cradled Jeslyn, glancing around the room.
She planted a ki*s on Jeslynâs cheek, feeling grateful that Albert cared for the little girl.
Even though Jeslyn wasnât his own, his love for her was evident.
Something seemed off with his virility, and he probably couldnât have children, which could explain everything.
Jeslyn was hooked up to an IV by the nurse, who then took off.
The servant hummed a lullaby and lulled Jeslyn to sleep, giving her gentle pats.
Spotting Albert by the window, she couldnât decipher his thoughts.
After some hesitation, the servant spoke up.
âMr.
Waston, donât fret.
Back in my hometown, thereâs a remedy for menâs issues.
Iâll fetch it on my break.
Your secretâs safe with me.
â
Albert was taken aback, but then comprehended what the servant meant.
He didnât turn or elaborate, simply saying, âThanks.
â
The servant was worked up.
She blurted out, âOnce youâre better, you and Mrs.
Waston can try for kids.
Youâre kind-hearted.
Surely, things will work out.
God wouldnât be so unfair.
â