She remained silent, not saying a word.
Sylvan Cheney frowned; he disliked her silence. Even if she were sharp-tongued, arguing with him, he still preferred that to her silence.
But she truly said nothing, only stared silently at the white bed sheets.
"If you don't want to eat porridge, I can take you out to eat something else. What do you want to eat?" he asked, looking at her.
"I don't want to eat anything. You should leave."
"I'll leave, but you don't have to keep chasing me away."
"Oh." She lowered her head, twisting her fingers, though her heart was calm.
"It's half past eight. You can't just sit in the hospital room all day. What do you want? I'll get it for you. I just went out and had someone buy you an outfit. You can change into it later."
"I don't need it. I don't want it."
