Her hand

A nurse came to see her once and said that the red rash on Zak had gone down a lot and she might be waking up, so the family should prepare a little bit of food if they can, they might be hungry when they wake up.

The sound of a woman's coquettish playfulness came clearly through the doorway, and Cerys Holland looked at the soles of her feet, bowing her head so low that her expression was unreadable, just a shadow.

Daphne slowly moved her eyes down to her lips and said, "Your lips are so dry, the doctor said you need to hydrate more."

She grew up with very little guts, not daring to argue with people or contradict them, and it was the same when she went to college, and it's the same when she's working.

"Zakky, wake up, I'm here."

Daphne very deservedly took her place, sitting on the edge of the bed to keep watch over Zak.

She didn't dare to look up; if she did, she'd see a corner of ambiguity.

"Is it still hard? Don't you want to sit

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