She wanted to go see Qiao Dehou, wanted to talk to him; if only he weren't in a coma, maybe he could answer all her questions.
She wanted to ask him what really happened eight years ago, wanted to ask him why he hid so many truths from her.
Qiao Mo stayed by the bedside. As she sat there, the murmuring went on until evening.
Near seven o'clock, her stomach started to feel painfully hungry. It seemed the little one still had quite an effect on her.
Just then, her phone rang; it was Fu Nancheng calling.
"Where are you?" His voice was as deep as always. Today, he had come home early for once, only to find she wasn't there.
"At the hospital," Qiao Mo responded softly.
His heart tightened, falling into silence.
Could it be she already knew?
While pondering, a trace of bitterness rose in Qiao Mo's heart, and she softly said, "Here to talk to Dad, but who knows when he'll wake up."
