In her dream, Xaviera saw the man shouting outside, and a group of nurses rushed in, holding her down and drawing her blood with a syringe.
These people were like madmen, wanting to drain all her blood, not caring that she was getting weaker and weaker.
The man muttered, "Xaviera, I'm sorry, I had no choice! I love you too, but only one of you can survive, I must choose, really sorry, I failed you..."
Xaviera felt as if her heart had been struck, the pain indescribable.
At this moment, she was like a floating soul in mid-air, looking at herself being pressed on the bed. In her dream, she appeared to be fourteen or fifteen years old, probably not even in a romantic relationship yet, and the man's so-called love was likely familial.
But she couldn't see the man's face clearly, and his voice was different from her brothers', she couldn't remember ever knowing such a person.
