Olivia woke up two days later.
With difficulty, she opened her eyes and turned them to familiarize herself with the surroundings. The tip of her nose smelled the familiar disinfectant, and she knew she was not dead. She was in the hospital again.
For a moment, she had no idea if she was doomed or if God was trying to torture her.
This broken body was no more than a burden to live on, right?
After wiping her body, the caretaker looked up and saw her awake. She shouted, "Ms. Larson, are you awake? I'll get the doctor for you."
Olivia tugged at her dress, shook her head, and asked hoarsely, "How many days have I slept?"
"Two days. Do you feel okay?"
"Was I the only one who came to the hospital that day? What about the other one?"
The caretaker froze. She was confused. "Ms. Larson, I'm your caretaker. But as far as I know, you were the only one brought in that night. There was no one else."
'No?'
Olivia's heart sank. She did not save Uncle Wallace's body after all.
It was as if
