Joyce slept for a long, long time.
It felt like she had a long dream, a dream that was pure white and couldn't be seen. She felt like she was back to when she was still
a child, stumbling, running all the time, running and running, and suddenly the whole world was quiet and she was the only one
left.
She looked around in a panic, no one was there.
She was lost and couldn't find her mom and dad. She was so anxious that she cried, but there was nothing she could do and no
one responded to her.
She could only go on alone, alone.
A sense of powerlessness, helplessness, fear and confusion caused her to break out in a cold sweat.
Her eyes snapped open, muddled, surrounded by unfamiliar surroundings, cold-toned walls, cold-toned furniture.
For a moment, she couldn't tell if it was a dream or reality. Turning her head gently, she saw a face that was both familiar and
unfamiliar.
Was it ... Cecelia?
Not sure, she carefully searched her memory of Cecelia, and she tried hard to think about every details of her.
It is indeed Cecelia, the years have not left too many traces on her face, it is still the sas she remembered her. So, is she still
dreaming? Just from one dream, to the middle of another dream?
Clearly Cecelia is in a coma, clearly Cecelia is still trapped in the secret hospital, still under the siege of Otis.
How is it possible, at this moment, to appear in front of her eyes?
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtIt must be her, anxious inside, pining for the disease, overly repressed because she wanted so much to get her parents out.
When she was a child, she lost her parents and now it had been twenty years.
It has been through too many ups and downs.
She doesn't care about money, nor power, nor does she care if her parents are high and powerful. Even if they are just ordinary
people, she just hope they are well.
However, today the Heath family is drifting in the storm.
She did not want to, before she had tto get with them, lose them again.
She looked sideways, at Cecelia's face, and a hot bead of tear, slipped from the corner of her eye.
Gently opening her mouth, her voice was already hoarse, "Don't talk. | want to see more of you, | know it's a dream. | just want to
see more of you in my dreams. Don't go ..."
She was afraid that the person in front of her would shatter the beautiful dream.
Reaching out, she gently brushed Cecelia's cheek with a real touch that put her in a trance.
Cecelia looked at Joyce with mixed emotions and did not speak.
Four years ago, they had met each other by several times, but never recognize each other. In a sea of people, they were strangers.
But she never thought that, Joyce was her daughter.
Arter all the hardships, the heavens have mercy and today she is finally reunited with her daughter.
Cecelia couldn't help but gently hold Joyce's hand, pressing her hot palm against her cheek, "It's not a dream, it's me, I'm Cecelia.
luther and the others have rescued me. It's me."
Joyce's mind was dazed and she shook her head, never believing it, "How, you're not in a coma ..."
"I woke up yesterday." Cecelia looked at her tenderly.
Joyce sat up sharply, she repeatedly pinched her cheek, and sure enough, it hurt.
Is it not a dream?
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