She was half-leaning against the headboard, drinking water, and when she heard the door open, she slowly lifted her head and looked over.
Philip Shaw's steps faltered slightly, and for that moment, he couldn't quite describe the feeling in his heart.
Was it joy? Or maybe surprise?
He couldn't quite clarify it, only felt that it was like a reunion after a separation far longer than five years.
He had snatched her back from Death's grip, she was alive.
By this time, the weather had already turned chilly. The first winter rain of the early winter was falling from the sky. The windows were closed, and the raindrops pattered against the glass, sounding somewhat clamorous in the silent hospital room.
Aldana Candi withdrew her gaze and gently shook her head at the little nurse who was feeding her water with a spoon, indicating that she no longer needed it.
She was still very weak, her face devoid of color, her eyes empty and distant, like a patient gravely ill.
