“There’s no wound on the patient’s hand?” The nurse was caught by surprise. “There is a wound, though. It’s very serious. It’s not only infected, but the wound will discharge pus at night. That is why we keep the wound bandaged.”

“Infected?” Brendan got up from his seat. “When did that happen?”

The nurse thought for a moment. “On the morning of the 19th.”

Deirdre was actually telling the truth. She had been injured on the morning of the 19th. On the other hand, that morning…

Brendan could not help breathing heavily as the image of Charlene showing up that morning popped into his mind. He clenched his fists tightly and asked eagerly, “What does the wound look like?”

The nurse was startled but she did not have the courage not to reply. She considered it closely for a moment before she pointed at the back of her hand. “It’s injured here, here, and here. It’s all covered in puncture wounds, and her hand bruised up right away. Her flesh was dug out of her skin, and she was bleeding pro