The Prison-Made Queen novel Chapter 816

He must have terrified her.

Milford opened his mouth, desperate to comfort her, but his throat felt like it was coated in sandpaper. He couldn't force a single sound out.

Seeing her panic intensify, he could only use his eyes, silently begging her to calm down and showing her that he was, in fact, alive.

Yvonne finally noticed his struggle and realized he was too dehydrated to speak. She scrambled to pour a cup of lukewarm water, grabbed a medical swab, and carefully moistened his cracked, peeling lips.

The cool water soothed the brutal dryness in his throat, and Milford finally managed to drag in a ragged breath.

Even with the water, his voice was a broken, raspy croak, raw and painful. He looked at her, forcing the words out one agonizing syllable at a time.

"Yvonne... don't be scared... I'm... fine..."

The surgery had been flawless, but broken ribs took months to heal. Every word he spoke tugged violently at his chest. Squeezing out that single sentence took every ounce of strength he had left.

But having his sister by his side, fussing over him... despite the excruciating pain, a profound, overwhelming sense of gratitude slammed into him.

He was alive. And God, it felt good to be alive.

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