Aldana Candi's fever subsided, but perhaps due to yesterday's shock, her spirit and complexion both looked very poor.
The doctor came to check the wound on her hand. Although the treatment was timely and the wound hadn't become inflamed, because her physical condition was so poor, after a whole night, the wound she made herself was still slightly bleeding.
The hemostatic cotton wrapped around her palm had soaked up blood throughout the night, and when it was removed, the heavy sensation was a bit alarming.
Philip Shaw stood by the window smoking, watching the doctor carefully attend to Aldana Candi's wound. When she woke up, she was very weak and showed no expression, leaning against the headboard, her gaze fixed on her own palm. Because her skin was so pale, each of her distinct eyelashes appeared translucent in the sunlight.
She looked very haggard and fragile, as if about to dissipate into the air at any moment.
