After being discharged, I stopped going to therapy.
But Celeste came to my door.
She carried an insulated food container and held a bouquet of flowers, standing at the gate of the Family mansion with a smile as warm as moonlight.
“Luna, I heard your old wound flared up and you nearly had an accident. I came specially to check on you.”
I should have hated her.
But looking at those clear, innocent eyes, I found that I could not.
She did not know.
In a certain sense, she was also a victim being played by someone else.
“Sister, where is your Mate? Why isn’t he home taking care of you?”
She walked into the kitchen with natural familiarity.
“You haven’t eaten yet, right? I’ll make you some herbal porridge to nourish your body.”
I really had not eaten.
After bringing me home from the
