I don't know what time it is at night, it feels like I've slept for a long time, yet it also seems like I've had a long dream.
The rain outside has lessened significantly, pattering gently against the window. The night is serene, shrouded in darkness, quiet and calm.
Jasmine Yale habitually curls up when she sleeps, a tendency that's more pronounced in the winter.
When it gets cold, she likes to hold the quilt tightly to her chest.
During the night, warmth spreads from the palm of her hand.
Her originally cold feet seem to be embraced warmly.
Jasmine Yale thinks she is dreaming. In her dream, she is not pregnant and is wearing a floral dress, running back and forth across the spring lawn.
The spring sunshine is warm, the flowers are fragrant, a riot of colors, everything is so full of life.
She is basking in the sun, running until she gets tired.
Just as she wants to sit down and rest for a while, she sees Sylvan Cheney picking a bunch of roses, walking towards her.
