Chapter 421
A few minutes later, Charlotte finished treating the wound. Sweat dotted her forehead, and her crisp white t-shirt was now stained with the driver’s blood. The color stood out sharply, making the whole scene feel even more intense.
“Don’t move him until the ambulance arrives,” she said quietly, picking up her backpack with her eyes lowered. Without another word, she turned to leave.
“Miss, wait,” Matthew called, stepping in front of her. His voice was earnest. “My wife’s hurt too. Could you help her?”
Charlotte stopped and glanced back. The woman was sitting by the road, wrapped in a jacket, watching them with wide eyes. For some reason, her face looked oddly familiar to Charlotte, though she couldn’t quite place it.
Matthew spoke again, his face tight with worry. “Please. I’m asking you.”
Charlotte nodded. “Alright.” She walked over to the woman’s side.
As Charlotte approached, the woman-Lavinia-stood up, clearly wanting to say something. Before she could, Matthew rested his hand gently on her shoulder and coaxed her back down. “Just sit for a moment. Let her take care of the wound.”
He turned to Charlotte and offered a grateful smile. “Thank you.”
Charlotte just nodded, polite and quiet, then bent down to check Lavinia’s forehead. There was a single cut right between her brows. It wasn’t too deep, but if it wasn’t cleaned up soon, it might get infected.
“It’s not serious,” Charlotte said, reaching for some alcohol and a cotton swab. “But I need to disinfect it. It might sting a bit.”
The mention of pain made Lavinia pale. She bit her lip and her brows drew together.
“Just for a second, okay?” Matthew’s voice was soft as he wiped a smear of blood from her cheek with h thumb. “If you dont det her treat it, you might end up with a scar. You don’t want that, do you?”
Lavinia clutched his hand, her eyes watering. “I don’t want to be ugly.”
“Then be good and let her help,” Matthew replied, gently patting her head. “She’s
got other things to do. Let’s not hold her up.”
Hearing this, Lavinia looked up at
Charlotte. The girl was slim and tall, with delicate features and the clearest eyes. She looked sweet and
gentle, the kind of girl anyo
would
like at first glance.
“Thank you, dear,” Lavinia said, trying to smile even though she was clearly
nervous.
Charlotte gave her a reassuring look, then started carefully cleaning the wound, her touch gentle and steady.
As Charlotte worked, Lavinia stared at her, growing more and more fond of the girl with every second. She couldn’t help herself. “How old are you, sweetheart?” she asked.
Charlotte glanced up. “Almost nineteen.”
“Still in school?”
Charlotte nodded. “Yeah.”
“Oh.” Lavinia pressed her lips together, a little disappointed. Nineteen seemed so young. If her eldest son wasn’t nearly thirty and already had a girlfriend, she would have loved to introduce him to such a kind, beautiful, and talented girl. Charlotte was just the sort of person any mother would want for her son.
But Anthony was too old, she thought, a little regretful. Then another idea popped into her mind. Andrew was only eighteen. That could work. Maybe she could set Charlotte up with Andrew instead.