This was a large room shrouded in pink tulle, akin to a princess's bedroom.
Enna Clark, who had been missing for a night, was silently lying on the soft lace bed. Her face seemed exceptionally pale, and the traces of the scratch on her forehead made her face seem even smaller, like the size of a hand. She resembled a delicate porcelain doll that could shatter with a mere touch.
Her hands were now crossed on her belly, showing no sign of the little life growing inside her.
Just like the Sleeping Beauty in fairy tales who had been cursed by a witch.
Edward Jackson stood silently by the bed, his gaze sweeping over her face and then settling on her flat abdomen, a hint of anger flashing in his eyes. Then, his gaze turned to the back of her hand where the infusion needle was inserted, his face showing a hint of concern.
