After laying Amelia Clarke flat on the bed in the lounge, Owen Moreland removed the suit jacket covering her and glanced towards her lower abdomen.
She was wearing his gray shirt, the oversized clothing concealing her figure. His large hand gently rested on her abdomen, which was still flat and firm.
It was clearly no different from before, yet Owen Moreland felt a strange sensation.
After tucking her in with a blanket, he quietly closed the lounge door.
Benjamin Richardson had not returned yet, so Owen Moreland walked behind the large desk, pressed the power button on the computer, and turned to stand in front of the glass wall. The view outside was no different from before; the sunset painted the sky red, and the entire Capital City was bathed in golden-red light.
Adversity can sometimes be a stumbling block, but other times it can be a stepping stone for advancement; the outcome depends entirely on one's abilities.
The computer behind him chimed.
