Owen Moreland eyed her obedient little form, a hint of amusement slid through the depths of his eyes, and then his brow furrowed again, malnourished?
This isn't the era of starvation anymore.
Recalling the girl's weightlessness when he had held her in his arms earlier, his frown grew deeper.
"Do you usually not eat well?"
Amelia Clarke was biting a straw, she blinked at the question, then smiled with her eyes curving, "Pretty good."
Owen Moreland stared at her palm-sized face for a while, not continuing the topic, but instead asking, "Do you feel unwell anywhere else?"
Amelia Clarke shook her head.
Owen Moreland didn't say more, he simply took the empty bottle of Glucose Oral Solution from her hand and threw it into the trash bin, then he helped her lie down and tucked her in snugly, his movements natural.
"Get some more sleep, I'll call you for a meal." Then he turned off the main light, leaving only a bedside lamp on, its dim and gentle glow.
