"I gave him his depression meds in the morning, but he didn’t take them," the doctor said, frowning. "He can’t just not take your meds!"
Grace: "I’ll have a good talk with him tomorrow."
Doctor: "I heard he listens to Violette more. Maybe you could..."
"No way! The reason my son is in this state is all because of her. That woman only brings misery to my son!" Grace exclaimed, her emotions running high.
The doctor didn’t comment.
He was only responsible for Elijah’s physical condition.
"I know you’re not intentionally siding with Violette... We’ll talk again tomorrow! Let’s see if he’ll listen to me," Grace quickly compromised.
She hoped her son would get better soon. Everything else, she could let slide.
...
After Violette finished her bath, she went to the window and looked at the snow outside.
The ground was white, as if it had been dressed in a layer of silver. The night also seemed a bit brighter.
She picked up her phone, wanting to call Elijah.
She wanted to hear his voice.
Afraid that he wouldn’t answer, she decided to send him a voice message instead.
Even if she couldn’t hear his voice, she wanted him to hear hers, to let him know that she was thinking about him.
After sending the voice message, she went to the living room, took out some yarn, and began knitting a sweater.
The world became peaceful, and her heart followed suit.
Around 2 am, Elijah was awakened by a nightmare.
His forehead was covered in sweat, and his eyes were filled with a rare terror.
These days, he dreamt every night that he was dead.
That wasn’t even the worst part.
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