The little finger on her left hand was now lying flatly o n the ground as if it had no bones to support it. A heart -wrenching pain radiated from her smashed little finger. She was in so much pain her consciousness was starting to fade.
No matter how hard she tried to recall, she could not remember who it was who refused to let her go even when she was sent to an asylum. The only thing she remembered was the words Joshua said to the leader o f the nurses yesterday when she was lifted out of Blue Bay Villa on a stretcher. "Treat her wounds when you're at the hospital. Her hands are quite pretty, it would be a pity if they were scarred."
Luna closed her eyes, Fiona's baleful gaze floating in front of her eyes when Joshua said those words.
She laughed bitterly. She was already in this condition, and yet Fiona would still feel jealous of her just because of a single sentence out of Joshua's mouth?
The severe pain prevented her from pondering on this issue for too long. The pain was all that filled her mind. Too much pain. No one treated her, no one dressed her wound. Every smashed blood vessel on that finger was clamoring and protesting, the pain was violent and severe. She had a high fever.
Only after lunch, two nurses came and fed her
medicine, then washed her face with cold water.
"Wake up! Someone's here to see you!”
After dressing her wound with a simple layer of gauze, Luna was dragged out of her ward to the same visiting room that felt like a prison visiting room. The last time she was here, she was outside. This time, she was inside.
Sitting behind the iron railing, Luna raised her eyes to look at the woman sitting outside. "It's you?"
The woman sitting opposite her curled her lips in a smile, tucked her hair behind her ears gracefully, and lifted her painted-red lips lightly, and said, "Of course it's me, dear sister."
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