Sophie Sullivan felt a surge of anger at being deceived. She patted Gaby's head. "Gaby, let's go!"
Thomas Shannon reached out, gripping her hand tightly. The fluid transfusion needle in the back of his hand twisted, and fresh blood kept flowing out.
"Fennie... don't go," he said, his voice barely a whisper.
Sophie turned her head. Looking at his pale face, her gaze gradually moved down, landing on the back of his hand, which was already badly swollen.
"Thomas Shannon, you..."
"Fennie..." Thomas Shannon's eyelids drooped weakly. "Will you stay, please?"
This sentence surprisingly echoed the words he had spoken in her dream.
Except, in the dream, he had looked utterly comical, hugging her legs and weeping bitterly as he pleaded with her.
Now, Thomas Shannon's tone was weak, a barely perceptible vulnerability flickering in the depths of his eyes...
Was he... sad?
