Andresha returned to the bed, her father sitting by her side.
Everything felt like a dream—even the pain from just now pulling at her wound couldn't assure Andresha of the reality of it all. She felt lightheaded again, a dizzy sensation washed over her in waves, leaving her weak and unsteady—was this a sign of imminent awakening from a dream?
She raised her head, looking at her father's face, scrutinizing every detail, as if to engrave every wrinkle, each strand of hair, and every subtle change in expression completely into her mind, then comparing them earnestly with images from over a decade ago…
Her father was almost entirely different from her memory, other than those familiar eyes, Andresha found few details in his face that matched those from her past… Was this simply because time had blurred her memory of childhood details, or had the experiences of these years truly changed a person so significantly?
