Anastasia was in her room, staring quietly at Mason's picture on her phone, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.
She didn't know why she kept going back to that photo, but something about it made her feel warm. Safe. Cared for.
Just then, she heard footsteps approaching her door. She checked the time — 6:10 p.m.
"Guess Mason is back," she whispered, standing quickly.
A soft knock followed.
She didn't hesitate. She hurried to the door and opened it. Her heart fluttered the moment she saw him ... Mason, standing there in a white shirt slightly rolled at the sleeves, a package in his hand.
"Good evening, you're back," Anastasia said, her voice calm but shy, almost uncertain.
"Yes… How do you feel now?" Mason asked, his voice sounded tired, but still held a softness.
"I'm very strong now… I'm okay, and I didn't skip any meals," she replied with a proud yet shy smile, trying to hold her excitement down.
"Good," Mason said, gently nodding. "I'll head to my room now."
