When Carson Flores entered the room, Shirley Miller was sitting on the bed reading a book.
"You're back."
Carson Flores smiled, "I'm going to take a shower first."
When Carson Flores turned around, Shirley Miller clearly saw a large splatter of bright red bloodstain on the back of Carson's T-shirt, and her face couldn't help but slightly change.
"Are you hurt?"
Carson Flores paused for a moment, turning his head, "I'm not injured. Why do you ask?"
Shirley Miller took a deep breath, hesitated for a moment, but then decided to speak plainly, "There's blood on the back of your shirt."
Carson Flores blinked, smiled faintly, and said, "It's someone else's."
Shirley Miller pursed her lips and nodded lightly, "As long as you are not hurt. Go ahead and shower."
"Okay!"
After Carson Flores had taken his shower and returned to the bed, Shirley Miller had already lain down, leaving Carson a wonderfully graceful silhouette.
Carson Flores turned off the lights and lay down as well.
