Burberry Hospital
Evangeline woke up disoriented. The first thing she did was move, but her limbs were so heavy, and any slight movement brought a jolt of pain to her spine. Pain.
"Agh . . . ," she groaned. Her face was swelling, and she could even see purples in her line of sight.
"Don't move. It's best if you rest for a while."
Evangeline paused, then her eyes focused on Eric, sitting on a chair beside her bed. The blank look on his face, in contrast with the concern in his voice that he failed to hide, put a tear in her eyes.
"Eric . . . ," she croaked. Her voice was weak as her dry lips hurt whenever she moved her mouth.
"The doctor said you still need three days' rest. Fortunately, there were no fractured bones, only cuts and bruises."
The transition in his voice from warm to deadpan unnerve her.
"Eric . . . about the Paris thing," Evangeline forced out the words even though she was having difficulty. "I––"
