"Sleep now, it's late,"
Amelia could understand the sudden change in his decision.
Her mother's body was still warm, and it was disrespectful for them to engage in acts of intimacy towards the deceased.
After turning off the lights, the two lay down, and Owen Moreland extended his arm to pull her into his embrace, his palm caressed her lower abdomen gently.
The night was quiet, with the varying chirps of insects outside the window rising and falling, clear and pleasant, like a summer night concert.
"Owen,"
"Hmm."
"Auntie Williams came by this afternoon. She said that Sherry Taylor was resuscitated, but she hasn't woken up yet. She might never wake up for the rest of her life. Even if she does wake up, she'll have to spend the rest of her days in bed. Do you think this is unpredictable? She was fine when she arrived that day, and in the blink of an eye, it turned out like this..."
Owen Moreland: "..."
