Delphine hurried to the hospital. The light above the operating room was on. Griffith Squire sat outside the door, his whole being cold and rigid like ice. The always-smiling, handsome face was devoid of any expression.
Delphine walked over, bent down, and looked at Griffith Squire, asking nervously, "What happened to Leah?"
Griffith Squire's jet-black eyes shifted to her. Seeing it was her, his thin lips moved slightly, and his voice was hoarse and low: "Her old illness has relapsed, and the situation is very unstable. Aiden said that if she doesn't recover to an optimal state this year, she won't be able to undergo the final surgical treatment."
Delphine's complexion turned a bit pale. Leah had been undergoing treatment for six or seven years, and without the final surgery, the chances of recovery were slim.
"How could her old illness suddenly relapse? Just a few days ago, when I talked to her on the phone, she seemed perfectly fine."
