Chapter 301

At five in the morning, Charles Hart quietly pushed open the door to the intensive care unit, a warm bag of soy milk and soup dumplings in his arms—freshly bought from the place on Chinatown she used to rave about. He'd even made the driver detour three blocks just to get the crab roe ones she liked. If Michael Anderson always played his cards fast, this time Charles wasn't letting him get the upper hand. Stella Johnson was still fast asleep, her breathing soft and slow. Charles tiptoed in, placing the breakfast gently on the bedside table. As his eyes landed on her pale face, his chest tightened a bit. He slowly raised his hand, wanting to brush the messy strands from her forehead, but stopped just before touching her skin. Last time he tried, she woke up and looked at him like he was a total stranger. Taking a quiet breath, he turned around and went to wet a towel with warm water. When he returned, he carefully wiped her hand. Stella let out a faint sound and slowly opened her eyes.