It scared the wits out of Blair. She jumped off the bed and got a bin to catch the vomit.

The little boy threw up a few times until there was nothing left in his stomach. Blair pulled out a few tissues to wipe his mouth. Then, she got a glass of water and asked him to rinse his mouth

‘What should I do? What should I do?’

In a panic, she removed the covers and called Wesley, only to hear the cold, automated voice.

“Sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service..." Blair hit her forehead with her hand, feeling stupid. She remembered that Wesley was on a mission again.

His parents were out of town and Niles had moved out to live with

Irene.

Left with no other choice, she decided to take her son to the hospital herself. She got dressed quickly and casually tied up her hair.

Then, she took off his dirty clothes and changed him into comfortable ones. Wrapping him in a coat, she carried the boy in her arms and walked down the stairs.

Blair found the key to the car which was installed with a child seat.

After buckling him up, she gently caressed the little boy's cheek and comforted him, "Baby, Mommy is taking you to the hospital now. Hold on

Tell me if you need anything.”

Gifford nodded weakly, and leaned back in the seat, listless.

Around two o'clock in the morning, Blair arrived at the nearest hospital and registered into the emergency department. She carried the fifteen-kilogram boy in her arms the whole time. When she was inside the doctor's office, she was already sweating profusely, even though she was in her pajamas and an overcoat.

She told the doctor about the child's symptoms. After a simple check-up, the doctor said, "It might have been caused by unhygienic food. But I can't confirm it before further examination is done. I suggest you get him admitted right away and have his blood tested by tomorrow.”

“Unhygienic food?’ Blair's heart skipped a beat. He had only eaten the food she had cooked today. Was there any problem with her cooking? If it turned out that her son had fallen sick because of the food she had cooked, she would have failed as a mother.

With Gifford in her arms again, Blair went up and down the hospital to finish the formalities. By the time he was put on a drip in a ward, it was already four in the morning.

The little one looked pale and sleepy. He closed one of his eyes.

“Mommy, say...good night. I close my...eyes." He spoke inarticulately.

It took Blair a little while to take in his meaning.

The needle was taped onto his forehead, since the veins on his head were easier to find. Blair looked at the boy lovingly and planted a kiss on the other side of his forehead.

“Good night, my dear baby."

Gifford closed his other eye at once and said, "Good night, Mommy."

Staring at his sleeping face, she held his little hands in hers and rained kisses on them. 'Oh, my little angel. You are such a good boy!'

He only cried a little when the nurse inserted the needle into his vein, but he soon stopped after Blair coaxed him. He was quiet the whole time. She was almost moved to tears seeing how sweet her son was.