The small clinic had very few inpatients. Ned walked into the ward and saw Sophie curled up on the tiny hospital bed, her whole body wrapped in a cotton quilt, looking very small and fragile.
He approached silently, then slowly squatted down, gazing at her face.
Her face carried exhaustion, with dark shadows under her eyes. Her long hair lay messily scattered across the pillow, giving her a heartbreakingly haggard appearance.
Ned crouched by the bed, right above Sophie's head. Whether it was the simple, crude surroundings of this little clinic or her thin, sickly form, both made him feel suffocated.
He remained like that for a long time, completely still.
Then, slowly, he reached out and brushed aside the stray strands of hair clinging to her cheek…
Sophie twitched slightly, then turned over, tucking her small face deeper into the quilt.
Ned's gaze grew deeper, more profound.
His eyes stayed fixed on her face, staring intently, filled with complicated emotions.
