Christine Quinn slightly nodded, her face still carrying a faint smile.
Jonathon Gibson gazed deeply at Christine Quinn.
She seemed thinner than a week ago, the veins on the back of her hand showing, her pale face hidden beneath a smile.
"Are you tired, do you want to lie down on the bed for a while?"
"Okay."
Jonathon Gibson helped Christine Quinn slowly stand up.
Her body was already very weak, like an oil-dried candle, ready to extinguish at any time.
Christine Quinn slowly walked to the bedside, and with Jonathon Gibson's help, lay down on the bed.
Jonathon Gibson carefully tucked the quilt around Christine Quinn and softly instructed, "Sleep for a while, I'll go out and buy lunch for you."
"Okay."
He tucked Christine Quinn's hands into the quilt, and only then did Jonathon Gibson turn to leave.
Christine Quinn tiredly closed her eyes, quietly listening to the world.
She was very aware of her own body; she knew her days in this world were already numbered...
