Chapter 15

Frost slumbered for a full day and night.

At the break of dawn, her eyelids finally flickered slightly.

"Zeke......"

She weakly called my name, her eyes brimming with tears,

"Don't leave me, don't abandon me......"

I was stunned.

Frost's reaction clearly revealed some hidden circumstances unknown to others.

Unable to bear watching her struggle in pain, I gently stroked her forehead and softly comforted her, "Don't worry, I won't leave. You rest well." After she fell asleep again, I went into the hallway and dialed Soren's number.

Soren sighed, as if he had anticipated I would call to ask him about Frost.

As it turned out, many years ago, when Frost was only 9 years old, she experienced a major family upheaval.

Frost's father had passed away early, and her mother, Ms. Westwood, was a rather famous author.

She hoped Frost would inherit her career, but Frost had loved painting since childhood and aspired to become an artist.

Mother and daughter argued endlessly about this.