The darkness of the small dimly lit room added another gloomy aura to the inside.
On the side of the bed was a middle-aged woman wiping a teenage girl's face with a towel as gently as she could be.
The girl was Lilith. She look frail, her fiery red hair lay under her head and her small exquisite face was as pale as snow, and her pink lips were chapped. She lay there, with her eyes closed.
The woman was so focused on cleaning her that she only turned around when the door produced a creaking sound, showing that someone has entered but she averted her gaze when she saw that it was her second daughter, Sara Beasant.
"She is yet to wake up." Twelve years old Sara affirmed as she stood by her mother's side with her hands on her waist.
"Yes, her parents' death must have hit her really hard, poor girl." The woman, Harriet said with pity as she dipped the towel into the water.
