The very next second, her gaze shifted to the man lying on the sickbed, and her pupils suddenly tightened!
With just one glance, her eyes rapidly reddened, and her hands at her sides clenched into fists, her fingertips turning white.
Her whole body began to shake uncontrollably, and several times she tried to speak, but no sound would come from her throat.
The man in front of her slept quietly, his handsome face had become much more resolute than twenty years ago, and it had gained a touch of mature charm.
However, lying in the sickbed for so long, without exposure to the sun or any sports, made his complexion look sickly pale...
If it weren't for the faint rise and fall of his chest, she might have thought the person lying before her was dead.
Grace Yakov moved mechanically, step by step into the hospital room.
"Miss Yakov, how come you're here? Do you know my Dad?" Evelyn Sherman was taken aback, regained her composure, and asked curiously.
