About three hours later, past midnight, Dennis lay on his back in bed, his eyes still open as he stared at the ceiling. He turned to look at Daisy, who was sleeping beside him, resting on his arm and held in his embrace. Dennis stroked his wife's hair and gazed at her sweet face while she slept, then returned his gaze to the ceiling. What Daisy Number Seven had projected into his mind—Daisy's actual vision of what happened to her sister—was still replaying vividly in his head, occasionally making him grit his teeth in rage.
[Can't sleep, Master?]
"How can I sleep after seeing what happened directly from Daisy's perspective? It's a good thing I asked her to stop. If I had seen what happened to Daisy and witnessed it myself, I might have lost it and wouldn't have been able to control myself," Dennis muttered in his head.
