Inside the bedroom, no one responded.
Edward Benson was ultimately worried about her, so he gripped the door handle and turned the door open.
In the pitch-dark bedroom, the heavy curtains were only drawn with a thin layer of gauze curtain.
The light of the lightning intermittently illuminated the entire bedroom.
Linda sat on the bed, tightly hugging her bent legs with both hands, her chin buried on her knee, her gaze vacant and brows furrowed.
She seemed to be afraid...
Snap.
The light came on, bright for a moment.
Edward Benson went to the front of the floor-to-ceiling windows and drew all the heavy blackout curtains.
Then he came to the bedside, looking at Linda's body, barely visible, trembling slightly. He felt both heartache and excitement...
This was his Isla, Isla was afraid of thunder. Every time it thundered, she would invariably burrow into his embrace seeking comfort.
