"Are you asleep?"
The text message came from Bo Siyan, a simple three words.
Holding her phone, Ning Xia stared at it for several seconds, then sat up with the quilt in her arms and replied, "No."
Less than a second later, her phone rang.
Ning Xia took a gentle breath, slid her finger across the screen, and then put it to her ear, "Hello."
Even though the woman was restraining the choke in her voice, Bo Siyan could still make out the sobbing tone. His heart felt like it was being squeezed. He raised his eyes to look at the apartment building, his gaze stopping where her room was, "Ning Xia, I'm sorry."
The dark timbre of his voice carried oppressive heaviness.
It was his lack of thoughtful consideration that caused her such great harm.
Ning Xia lowered her eyelids, her fingers lightly clutching the quilt. She was silent for a few seconds before her hoarse voice slowly rose, "Is Little Crybaby your son?"
More than an apology, she wanted to know the truth.
