Jasmine Yale's hand had unknowingly moved to her belly, where her little rascal had once been.
Somehow, she had dreamed about the baby again.
She still remembered being seven months pregnant, her belly already large and round, feeling particularly real to the touch.
She lifted her eyelids to look outside the window, where the sun was shining beautifully, filling the hospital room with sunlight.
Whenever she thought of the little rascal, she inevitably thought of Chale Cheney.
Little Chale, Little Chale...
For some reason, her heart skipped a beat without cause.
Accompanied by a sharp pain!
Jasmine Yale sat up in bed, threw off the covers, and jumped out of bed.
She glanced at her cellphone and realized it was Saturday.
The little guy didn't have any plans this Saturday morning, probably sleeping in, and had piano lessons in the afternoon.
But after what happened last time, had the little guy safely returned to Sylvan Cheney's side? Had he?
