32
Claire was staring at the ceiling, laying like a lifeless body. Her hands rested under her breasts on her ribs, her face drained of color and eyes red. She just emerged from the depths of darkness two minutes ago.
She heard people talking outside the closed door of her ward. It grew into a high-pitched argument. She couldn't care less to respond to it though. She kept peering aimlessly at the white ceiling.
Then the door parted and someone stepped in. The scent of the person was cognizant and it made her shoulders tremble. However, her face was hard as though it was carved from stone.
"Claire, you're awake?" The voice broke out, shocked and full of worry.
The person walked closer and he hovered over her. Jittery arms enveloped her and sobs were heard beside her head.
"I'm sorry.
