The doctor carefully scrutinized me, whispered something to his colleague, and then nodded in agreement.
I etched his face deeply in my heart. He is my benefactor.
The doctor came to my house, his brows furrowed, seemingly troubled.
He stabilized Grandma's condition and then told me that his medicine would only work for a while; Grandma's body was already extremely weak, her vitality flickering like a candle, even if she recovered this time, surviving a year would be improbable.
A year, it seems so short.
A year, it seems so long.
I have no other choice.
After Grandma woke up, she sometimes recognized me, sometimes not. The doctor was powerless about this as well; he said it could be dementia, or her brain might have been damaged by a fever, he told me this disease has no cure. Though he sympathized with me, he truly was powerless.
I really don't blame the doctor; I'm very grateful to him, but we have no money left, I can only weave him a Moon Tsubaki Crown.
