Late at night, a torrential rainstorm swept across the city without warning.
I stood before the floor‑to‑ceiling window of the hospital room, looking down at the rain‑drenched street below.
A black sedan pulled up outside the hospital.
Daniel stood in the rain without an umbrella, soaked to the skin.
Head tilted back, he stared up at my window without looking away.
He simply stood there, stubborn and unmoving, like a soulless statue.
I turned around and returned to the hospital bed.
After a long while, the door opened and Charles walked in.
He first went to the bathroom to wash his hands, warmed them under the hot water, and only then walked to the bedside.
"You've been watching for so long. Aren't your eyes sore?" he asked.
He reached out to cover my eyes, his palm dry and warm.
