Clara Grant looked at Cherie on the bed, a wave of pity washing over her. 'Cherie is so young, only five, and he's already an orphan. How can fate be so cruel as to make him suffer the torment of illness on top of that?'
At that thought, Clara Grant's eyes began to sting. She rushed over to the doctor and grabbed his sleeve. "Doctor, look at him, he's so little, and he's already suffered so much. So, please, I'm begging you. You have to find a way to cure him. Please!"
The doctor seemed startled by her sudden movement. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. "There is a way... it's just the cost..."
"The cost doesn't matter. No matter how much it is, I'll figure something out. As long as you can cure him." Hearing that there was a way, Clara Grant's eyes lit up.
