Their tender moment didn't last long. A knock sounded at the door—it was Felix Sinclair.
Soon after, the others arrived one by one.
Mia Grant was pale, her lips colorless, which only made the rims of her eyes look redder.
Everyone assumed Mia had been frightened by the drunk who had deliberately attacked her last night.
In reality, Mia had been consumed all day by the terror her dream had caused.
The truth was, in the end, she hadn't seen the person's face completely.
Just a chin.
Given how well she knew them, she should have been able to recognize the person even from just that.
Perhaps the result was just too unexpected. She subconsciously resisted it, unwilling to admit it.
So she still clung to a sliver of wishful thinking.
Mia spent a week in the hospital in a daze.
It was as if they had all coordinated, taking turns to stay with her at the hospital.
On the last day, it was Yates Donovan's turn.
Yes, he had just gotten off the plane.
