Chapter 11
Quinn felt like she had a long dream. In the dream, she was a little girl again.
Freya locked her in a storage room. She banged on the door desperately, but no one came to her
Just as she was on the verge of despair, the closed door slowly opened, and a beam of light shone through the c**k. Alexander’s tall and majestic figure was bathed in that holy light, and he reach like a deity, breaking down all her inner defenses.
From that moment on, she became his most devout follower.
Yet when she tried to grasp his hand, everything vanished, and she was plunged back into darknes
She opened her eyes abruptly, the light above her glaring and dazzling. She gasped for air, the pani from the dream still lingering.
Oliver was sitting in a chair by the bed, his suit jacket casually draped over his left arm. Holding his phone displaying colorful data charts, he said, “You’re awake.”
Seeing her awake, he stood up and considerately adjusted the head of the hospital bed for her.
Figuring that perhaps Oliver didn’t understand sign language, she typed on the phone.
Quinn: [Where’s Abigail?]
At the mention of Abigail, the troublemaker, Oliver was both helpless and amused. “She went to get your test results. You know, you totally freaked her out when you fainted.”
Embarrassed, Quinn typed: [Sorry for causing you so much trouble.]
“You’re Abigail’s friend, which makes you my friend, too,” Oliver said.
He thought, ‘Back in the club, Alexander chose to take Getty’s side rather than Quinn’s. Weird. I’ve known him for years, but I have no idea what he’s thinking.
‘Everyone can tell how much Quinn loves him except for himself. He dotes on his ex–girlfriend right to her face. How cruel! He must have broken her heart.
I feel so sorry for her.
The ward became quiet to the point of slightly awkward. Fortunately, Abigail’s footsteps broke the silence.
Her head was wrapped in bandages. Instead of coming in, she stopped at the door, hesitating.
Chapter 11
Quinn signed hastily, “Abigail, is your wound serious? Are you OK?”
Abigail grinned and said, “I’m tough, OK? Nothing can hurt me!”
Oliver scolded angrily, “You think? It’s your head, OK?! You better think of something to tell Dad wh
we get back.”
Shocked, Abigail grabbed his arm at once. “No! Don’t tell Dad, please! Oliver!”
Quinn smiled at their conversation. She envied them because they were a family. Such a sense of hom
was always a luxury for her.
Then Abigail showed Oliver the test report secretly and nudged him forward. “Oliver, you tell her.”
Oliver looked at her and asked, “Really? Do you really find that appropriate?”
Hearing that, Quinn propped herself up and signed to Abigail, “What are you talking about?”
Oliver took the opportunity to leave, leaving Abigail to explain.
Abigail looked uneasy as she sat down by the bed, holding Quinn’s hand, hesitant to speak.
Quinn stared at her without blinking. Yet after a long wait, Abigail still didn’t utter a word.
Seeing that, she let go of Abigail’s hand and signed, “Abigail, do I have some terminal illness? It’s fine. Just tell me. I can handle it.”
She thought, ‘If only I really had a terminal illness. Then I wouldn’t have to think about what the point of being alive is every day.”
Abigail patted her hand. “Nonsense. You don’t have a terminal illness. You’re… pregnant.”
MrstDream
this story is so addictive!!