Footsteps sounded outside the door.
Phoebe cautiously lifted her face, looking towards the entrance.
The door was pushed open, and a familiar figure stepped in.
A simple black T-shirt and denim shorts — it was Fifteen.
"So quick?" Seeing her, Phoebe stood up with a smile, reaching out to take the book from her hand.
"No need, I can do it myself." Fifteen withdrew her hand, passing the bag into his palm, "Where is the child?"
"Inside, sleeping," Phoebe smiled.
"Then I'll put the milk in the fridge first, so it doesn't spoil."
Fifteen carried the bag into the Master Bedroom, took out the milk bottle, and carefully placed it in the refrigerator cabinet.
As she put things into the fridge, she glanced at the child sleeping on the bed, a barely noticeable smile flickering across her eyes.
Phoebe followed her in, watching as she placed the milk in the fridge.
"You didn't sleep well all night yesterday. Tonight, sleep well in the room next door; I'll take care of her."
