Claire sat beneath the weak yellow light wearing an old pink cardigan over a nursing tank top. Her dark hair was tangled, her lips were dry, and her eyes looked sunken from exhaustion.
«« Previous
The package of noodles was open on the table, its contents scattered across the scratched wood.
A glass of water stood beside her.
There was no broth.
No fruit.
No medicine.
No proper meal.
“Claire?”
Her head snapped up.
For one beautiful second, relief transformed her face.
“Ethan?”
Then she began to cry.
He dropped his suitcase and hurried toward her.
“What happened? Are you hurt? Where is everyone?”Claire tried to stand, but pain crossed her face.
“Don’t move,” Ethan said, kneeling beside her. “Please, just stay there.”
He looked toward the bassinet.
