Amelia sat on the chair by the window, her side profile obscured by the dark, unlit room.There was an open book in her hands, but she wasn't reading it. Her fingertip rested on a page. She was looking at Christopher, quiet like a portrait.Christopher's breath caught in his throat.He moved his fingers, recalling how he had collapsed. He thought he wouldn't see her when he woke up.The last time, she accused him of pretending.But…What was she doing here now?His Adam's apple bobbed; he was about to speak when Amelia beat him to it. She shut her book and stood up very quietly, as though afraid of interrupting something.She walked to his bedside and looked down at his pale face, saying rather flatly, "Are you hungry? Want something to eat?"Christopher arched a brow.He was indeed hungry.His stomach was empty and he was still dealing with some pain. Compared to his physical needs, however, he cared more about what Amelia was thinking right now.She didn't question him or
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