I Became His Sweetheart

Chapter 380 Ten-year—old Boy

Leo was injured because of her, and it was only right of her to go and see him.

What's more, the butler had made himself so clear that Melanie had no choice but to smile and say with a nod. “Where is his room? I'll go check on him.”

“I'll have someone bring you there. | won’t be going. Mr. Joseph York just returned from his room, and | have to be by his side.” The butler called some servants and instructed them to lead Melanie to Leo’s room. He didn’t stay in the same building as Joseph.

The servants asked for Melanie’s permission, “Miss Melanie, it’s getting late. Shall we bring you through the shortcut?”

“Sure.”

Melanie was of the opinion that the less she walked, the better.

After a distance, as they were passing through the backyard between two blocks, a sharp, pungent smell made Melanie cover her mouth and nose with her hands.

She suppressed the discomfort in her stomach. “This place is...”

“This is where Mr. Harlow stays. He stays here whenever he comes back,” one of the servants explained. Melanie nodded. She wasn't interested in where Harlow stayed, but the smell was too strong and pungent. She quickened her pace, wanting to leave this place quickly.

However, her stomach was churning so badly; unable to hold herself back any longer, she rushed to the roadside, bent her head forward, and vomited.

The servants were frightened. “Miss! Are you alright?”

“What is that smell?” Melanie asked, her brows tightly knitted.

One of the servants paused before saying, “I forgot that you have a keen sense of smell. The small house in the backyard is the servants‘ quarters, and that’s the smell of waste fermenting.”

Just then, a child’s hoarse cries sounded from the house in the backyard. The servant shook her head as her brows furrowed, looking helpless and pained.

Melanie felt all her strength sucked out of her after vomiting for a while. She leaned against the wall next to her, trying to find her balance.

Just then, the servant in the lead complained, “Some people are just born in a higher class than others. It’s completely unfair!”

She then looked up at Melanie with a polite look on her face as she said, “Miss, I'll go pour you a cup of water. You'll feel better after taking a sip. Please wait here for a while.”

“Thank you.”

With that, the servant turned around and walked back to the main building to get a glass of water. In the silence, the cries of the child became louder. It almost broke Melanie’s heart.

Although Harlow was close to the age of 40 and had been through many women in his lifetime, he had never been married and had no kids of his own. Given someone of his temperament, why would there be a child in his backyard?

Melanie couldn't hold back her curiosity, and inched forward. She saw many bags of rubbish wrapped up in plastic bags and placed in front of the door of the smallest room. Bugs were flying everywhere.

No wonder the smell was so strong and pungent!

She walked around the bags of rubbish to the door, and saw a boy of around ten years old through the seam of the door. His thin and frail body made his head look big, and he was lying on the bed while hugging a balding soft toy cat; he looked weak and sickly.

The boy was crying, and he suddenly looked up at the door. He saw Melanie through the crack on the door. Awoman who was sitting on the edge of his bed feeding him water walked over hurriedly. She opened the door, and was shocked to see Melanie there.

“You are?”

“lm a guest at tonight's dinner banquet. | walked past this place and heard him crying, so | came over to take. a look. Apologies for interrupting,” Melanie said, trying her best to keep her voice down. She could sense that

this woman, seemingly around 40, was feeling very nervous.

“Ah...” The woman’s eyes were swollen, and she tried to smile in vain. “We should be the ones apologizing for ruining your mood.”Please check at N/ôvel(D)rama.Org.

“Is he hurt?”

Through the open door, Melanie could see that the boy’s arms and legs were wrapped in bandages. Blood seeped through them; it was clear the bandages weren't wrapped professionally, and looked at risk of an

infection.

“He has a fever and is ill,” the woman said vaguely, not wanting to talk about the boy’s injuries.

Melanie’s brows furrowed; she hesitated for a few seconds, thinking whether she should interfere in this, especially if it concerned Harlow.

The boy kept looking at her, a kindly and clear look in his eyes. It formed a stark contrast with all the filth she saw along the way here.

Melanie took a deep breath, and said solemnly to the woman, “He’s having a fever because of a wound infection. If you don’t treat it as soon as possible and reduce the inflammation, he might have sepsis and die

from it.”

The woman started panicking, and grabbed Melanie’s sleeves. She bowed, and was on the verge of kneeling as she cried, “Miss, please save him! He’s only ten years old! He didn’t do anything wrong! But Mr. York

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The woman started shedding tears, which appeared to have been suppressed for a long time.