Jude wheeled Satan in his wheelchair and stopped in front of the window to view the moon. “Look, even the moon is taking care of you, Satan. It looks so pretty tonight so that you’ll be in a good mood for the surgery tomorrow.”
Without saying anything, Satan merely stared blankly at the moon outside the window.
Then, Jude lowered herself and rested her head on his lap. “You’ll recover, Satan. Trust me.”
Reaching out his hand, he stroked her hair gently and uttered, “Mmph.”
“Let’s go horse-riding after you recover. I’ve learned almost everything from you except horse-riding, which I never really mastered. Will you teach me?” she asked, lifting her gaze at him.
“Sure.”
A genuine smile stemming from her heart spread across her face—gratifying and stunning.
“What will happen if the surgery tomorrow fails?” Satan asked calmly. In fact, he sounded so calm that it was as though he was asking an unimportant question.
“No, it won’t fail,” she murmured, still slumping on his legs.
“But what if? Have you thought about that?” He pressed on with his question, stroking her long hair gently; all he wanted was simply an answer.
Unsure of how she should answer the question, Jude thought for a long while before saying, “There won’t be any “what ifs”. I’m sure you’ll recover.”
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