Love Unspoken

Quinn felt like she had a long dream. In the dream, she was a little girl again.

Freya locked her in a storage room. She banged on the door desperately, but no one came to her rescue.

Just as she was on the verge of despair, the closed door slowly opened, and a beam of light shone through the crack. Alexander's tall and majestic figure was bathed in that holy light, and he reached out like a deity, breaking down all her inner defenses.

From that moment on, she became his most devout follower.

Yet when she tried to grasp his hand, everything vanished, and she was plunged back into darkness.

She opened her eyes abruptly, the light above her glaring and dazzling. She gasped for air, the panic from the dream still lingering.

Oliver was sitting in a chair by the bed, his suit jacket casually draped over his left arm. Holding his phone displaying colorful data charts, he said, "You're awake."

Seeing her awake, he stood up and considerately adjusted the head of the hospital bed for her.

Figuring that perhaps Oliver didn't understand sign language, she typed on the phone.

Quinn: [Where's Abigail?]

results. You know, you totally freaked her

which makes you my friend, too," Oliver

side rather than Quinn's. Weird. I've known him for years, but I have no idea what he's thinking. 'Everyone can tell

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to the point of

of coming

"Abigail, is your wound serious? Are you

tough, OK? Nothing can hurt

think? It's your head, OK?! You better think of

his arm at once. "No!

envied them because they were a family. Such a sense of home was always a luxury

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and asked, "Really? Do you really find