She fainted.
Everything that happened after that in the private room blurred into something unreal, like a fragmented dream stitched together by heat, voices, and broken memories.
By the time morning arrived, she was already on her way to school, an art exhibition reference book clutched in her arms. Her head still throbbed faintly, the lingering dizziness from the night before refusing to fade.
When Isabella had woken up in the middle of the night, she had been lying on a bed in the back room of the restaurant.
The sheets were clean, and she was dressed in a set of unfamiliar pajamas. Her hair was dry, her skin smelled faintly of soap, and it was obvious that she had taken a shower at some point she could not remember.
Did she and Jin Di really…?
