Chapter Eleven

Marianne came face to face with the most beautiful man she had ever seen, he probably in his mid thirties, at least six foot two, chiseled features and a well built body structure. So fine you could eat off of him, such eye candy.

It felt wrong that she was drooling over a fine man while her daughter lay lifeless right in front of her, as she quickly sat back in the wheelchair Lucy addressed the man,

"Mr Sorrell, is everything alright", she asked him as she walked to the door where he just froze as he watched poor Rose laying in the hospital bed with so many bandages.

Raphael turned his head with eyes still fixed on Rose to respond to nurse Lucy,

"Oui?... Oh", he shook his head, making his midnight black hair shift sides and fall just a little above his forehead and faced Lucy.

"I'm so sorry, I am just concerned about the little girl laying there", his French accent sent chills down Marianne's spine as she sat hiding her face away from Raphael.