Natasha stood before the mirror, looking at herself. It was currently six p.m. in the evening.
Her eyes were slightly widening, as though in disbelief. "It's…gone," she muttered beneath her breath.
A smile slowly emerged on her face, and she dashed out of her room, clad in nothing but a white dress and her slipper. She rushed towards Ryan's quarter, and without even allowing Lancelot to announce her presence, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.
As she shut the door behind her, she stared at Ryan, who was slipping into his shirt.
"Sweetheart, look at me." Her tone was filled with excitement.
Ryan, who had only just noticed her, turned around to look at her. "Nata…sha…" His words faded as he glimpsed Natasha's face. Every single rash was gone. Her skin was as flawless as it had always been. In fact, it looked even better than before.
"Your rash is gone." It was clear that he was shocked.
