The night had fallen, and the cold moonlight streaming in through the window illuminated the whole ward, making it brighter yet as pale as paper.
Throughout the afternoon, Emily Stone's complexion gradually improved, and at this moment, a rosy hue had begun to emerge.
Occasionally, she would show faint expressions, the quivering of her eyebrows and lashes, the slight twitch of her lips. Although these were subtle, they clenched the man's heart tightly.
His expression was complex. While he was eager for her to awaken, the words Bastian had said still occupied his mind. He couldn't help but worry, yet as long as she could wake up, nothing else mattered, truly nothing mattered!
Emily Stone remained deep in slumber, and Walter Schmidt watched over her until ten o'clock at night when the woman's fingers moved slightly.
