Amelia Smith had minor injuries all over, aside from a serious wound on her arm and a concussion.
Her leg was caught in a crevice, but it was just a bruise, no serious harm.
Perhaps it was good fortune in misfortune.
However, because of the blood loss and concussion, she was unconscious for a day.
When Amelia woke up, the sky was just beginning to lighten.
She opened her eyes to the hospital ceiling, smelled the disinfectants, and stayed dazed for quite some time before realizing she was still alive.
And she was in a hospital.
She blinked and then shifted her eyes to the side.
William Lane was sitting on a chair beside the bed, elbows upon the bedside table, his head held up by his hand, fast asleep.
Amelia watched his closed eyes, his high-bridged nose, and his thin lips.
Her eyes slowly traced the details of William's carefully refined face.
Suddenly, William opened his eyes.
Amelia instinctively averted her eyes, feeling embarrassed as if she had been caught peeking.
