"Are you alone?" Ryan asked with considerable exertion.
His voice was so soft Sam barely heard him, and he had to drop to a crouch to hear him clearly.
"Mom and Dad are worried, but they're too old," Sam quickly said. "The doctor also stopped us from visiting for another couple of days, so I sent them to the hotel. I'll call them now if you want to see them."
Ryan shook his head slightly, instead asking, "What did the doctor say about me?"
"Your vitals are fine," Sam assured him. "But there's organ damage so you need to recover here in the ICU for a while. Don't worry—you have the best medical staff here. You'll get better."
"Am I disfigured?" Ryan asked.
Sam did a double take.
"I can't see—you're totally covered in bandages," Sam said earnestly before adding. "Your eyes, mouth, and ears are showing, but those are fine."
"Am I missing limbs?" Ryan then asked.
Sam paused, surprised that Ryan would ask about that.
Still, it was understandable—anyone who went through such a terrible accident would be either concerned about their survival, and then their physical condition. After all, it would be easy to be crippled or disfigured after serious car accidents.
"Sam."
There was panic in Ryan's eyes when Sam did not answer.
"No," Sam lied, going against his own conscience—the doctor had told him not to tell Ryan about his condition, since it would be adverse to his recovery.
If they could deceive him for even a moment, so be it.
"You were hesitating," Ryan said, his tone feeble but agitated. "You're lying, aren't you?"
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