His Response

Her sleep was uneventful. It was a black canopy that enveloped her, no figment of scenes or scenarios formed in her mind while the hours passed. No dreams of snowflakes and rabbits, but no nightmares that plagued her either. Only rest and recovery occurred before she woke up.

And when she woke up, she had the entire bed to herself. Not a person in sight.

Had it all been a dream?

Some wild fantasy she had? Her main door creaked open to signify she was wrong, and there he appeared. With his long white hair pulled up into a side ponytail, and sparkling blue eyes—he looked motherly, a gentle smile on his face. He was carrying a tray of food.

"Good morning, Miss Chan Lee?"

The waft of pancakes and sweet syrup tickled her nose along with stir-fried rice, her eyes picked up on a sunnyside up. Perhaps it was because all she had last night was hot chocolate, but her stomach grumbled.

"Miss Chan Lee?"