"I'm really not sick. Why would I go to the hospital when I'm perfectly fine?" Rosalind Green said with immense patience, repeating over and over that she wasn't sick.
But if she knew her son thought she had a mental illness, would she still be this calm?
"If you're sick, you get treatment. If you're not, there's no harm in getting a check-up."
Adrian Hawthorne's tone was still firm. He genuinely thought Rosalind Green wasn't mentally sound. He'd only been gone for a week. How could his mother possibly transform from a delicate damsel, too weak to even truss a chicken, into a fierce heroine who dared to attack people?
'It was more likely the sun would rise in the west!'
Rosalind Green felt helpless. Her son's temper was just like his father's; once he made a decision, he wouldn't allow anyone to refute it. But she really wasn't sick. Her appetite had even improved recently, and she'd gotten stronger. She could even lift a full bucket of water with ease now.
