Currently, Esme lay nestled in her own familiar bed, head propped comfortably against a soft pillow with a warm blanket drawn up to her chest.
Shockingly, she no longer resembled the frail, broken woman she had been just days ago—the one who had been so thin and bony, her eyes hollow and sunken, her cheeks sallow and pale as death itself.
Instead her cheeks had regained their color, her skin had filled out, and there was a vibrancy to her that had been absent for far too long. Where once she had possessed only a pale, sickly beauty, she was now absolutely ravishing—healthy, glowing, alive.
Every bit of this miraculous change was thanks to Luca's dedicated treatment over the past few days.
Who would have thought his gentle, persistent treatments would work so flawlessly?
Not only had she regained much of her former appearance, but she could now move her hands and legs again—slowly, yes, but with real purpose.
