Vicky lifted the bowl on the nightstand. "You should eat something."
He stared at her intently. "My arm is injured, and I can't eat on my own."
Vicky had foreseen his response and unfolded a portable table before placing it on the bed.
"You're injured on your left arm, not your right one. You can easily eat on your own as long as I place the bowl in front of you on the bed."
"..." After a few moments of silence, Harvey chuckled and shook his head. "I thought you'd changed, but you haven't. Not at all."
Harvey had only been joking.
Ever since he woke up, there had been a big frown on Vicky's face, and he purposely tried to cheer her up with jokes, knowing she was unsettled by Tyler and the fact that Harvey was shot.
Indeed, Vicky had been tense because she did not expect Tyler to shoot and Harvey to take the bullet for her.
Harvey's jokes had temporarily taken her mind off her troubles, and she quickly realized that he was trying to cheer her up.
"Thank you for saving me," she
