--
A night passed.
Scarlett Yates's eyes were swollen like light bulbs, her face pale and ashen, as if dusted with powder, looking utterly haggard.
Her eyes were bloodshot, and her lips were dry and peeling. She took the mineral water Uncle Thompson gave her, drank a few sips, and shivered twice as the ice water went down her stomach.
She felt a bit of a headache, her throat was sore, and her limbs were achy and weak.
She thought she must have caught a cold.
When Uncle Thompson came in with breakfast and saw her looking so sickly, he paused and frowned, "Miss Yates, are you ill?"
"Seems like it." Scarlett said, sneezing twice in succession.
Uncle Thompson frowned again: "If you go back to Matthew like this, he might think I deliberately mistreated you."
As he spoke, he handed her the bag in his hand: "There are clothes in here, put them on quickly, and later go buy some medicine."
