She ground the pill into powder and poured a cup of warm water, sprinkling the powdered medicine into it, stirring until it was well mixed.
Finally, she added a lot of brown sugar before rushing out of the kitchen with the cup in hand.
Her pace was urgent, her little face pale and bloodless, truly because of her overwhelming anxiety.
When she returned to the master bedroom on the third floor, Walter Schmidt was no longer on the sofa in the outer room, and she immediately pushed open the door to the inner room.
The inner room was the bedroom, it was a thousand square feet in size, brightly lit, and the air conditioning was turned up high. Even in the summer, it made one shiver involuntarily.
On the huge bed in the center of the bedroom, the man lay on his back, one hand resting casually by his side, the other on his forehead; he had his eyes closed, seemingly asleep...
