Chapter 330
Chapter 330:
Hearing those words was like a balm for Sloane’s troubled heart. She felt the weight of her guilt begin to lift.
“I’m feeling a little hungry,” Fernanda added after a pause. “Could you grab me something to eat?”
“Of course,” Sloane replied, nodding quickly before hurrying out the door, her eagerness making her steps lighter.
Fernanda’s request lifted Sloane’s spirits because she felt useful.
After stepping out of the infirmary, Sloane received a message from Wendy and quickly updated her on Fernanda’s current predicament.
The vast infirmary now lay in an eerie stillness, with Fernanda as its sole occupant. She reclined on the sofa, letting her weary eyes drift shut, seeking solace in the quiet.
She had no grasp of how long she had been resting when the creak of the infirmary door shattered the silence. Assuming it was Sloane returning with food, she kept her eyes closed, unwilling to stir.
But the sound of approaching footsteps carried a weight that Sloane’s light tread never had. Suspicion pried her eyes open, and what Fernanda saw made her heart skip a beat.
She almost bolted upright from the sofa in shock.
The individual approaching her was tall, graceful, and poised. It was none other than Cristian.
The morning sun spilled through the windows of the infirmary, weaving a tapestry of light and shadow on the floor, enveloping everything in a golden haze.
As Fernanda watched, Cristian approached, his presence stark against the vivid autumn backdrop. His features carried a sharpness that made the scenery pale in comparison.
It was surreal seeing Cristian appear so unexpectedly, making her wonder if she were in a dream.
Then, a cool touch on her forehead snapped her back to reality; the chill traveled through her, sending a shiver down her spine.
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Her eyelashes flickered, casting delicate shadows across her cheeks.
Cristian exhaled deeply in relief.
“Thank goodness,” he murmured. “It’s not a severe fever.”
“Yeah, just a touch warm.” Fernanda’s voice was hoarse, yet it held a softness that resonated deeply.
They shared a moment of silence before Fernanda broke it. “When did you get back?”
Communication had been sparse during Cristian’s trip, leaving her out of the loop about his whereabouts or when he’d return.
“Just now,” he replied softly.
Taken aback, Fernanda turned to examine him more closely.
His eyes were tired, lids slightly swollen, and the whites tinged with red. His furrowed brows suggested that sleep had been elusive.
“Did you just get off the plane?” she asked.
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