"You're too kind, Director. I hope all the children have a bright future."
Meredith Rowan's words were incredibly tactful, saying exactly what the director wanted to hear.
"Thank you, Miss Rowan."
As the director of an orphanage, she naturally hoped these parentless children would have bright futures.
At the sanatorium, Meredith Rowan stared at her phone screen, her expression blank. Her usual gentle and pleasant demeanor was gone, replaced by an unapproachable chill.
She leaned back against the sofa, phone in one hand, the fingers of her other hand tapping lightly on her leg. A flicker of impatience crossed her eyes.
'Why hasn't Shirley Thorne made a move?'
'I didn't say anything about blessing the unborn baby!'
'Could I have guessed wrong? That can't be right!'
Just as she was growing frustrated, her phone vibrated with a new message.
She quickly sat up, a flash of delight in her eyes and a cold smirk playing on her lips.
