She hurried to close the window and then turned on the small chandelier on the desk. The orange light fell on them. Cynthia tucked the quilt around the old man.
Cynthia sat on a high stool next to him, holding his hand tightly, conveying the warmth of her hand. She frowned slightly, her face a little displeased. "How did they wait on you? The window is still open in such cold weather."
Years of taking medicine had left the smell deeply ingrained. Even the scented candle burning in the room couldn't mask the heavy medicinal scent.
The old man patted Cynthia's hand gently, a rare smile appearing on his face. "Cynthia, don't blame them. I asked them to open it."
"Grandpa..."
The old man coughed slightly again. Cynthia patted his back thoughtfully, helping him to breathe.
"Lying in be
