At this moment, Harry Hall stared unblinkingly at Helen Melendy's fingers. After pausing for a few seconds, just as he thought it might have been his imagination, Helen's finger moved again.
This time, Harry saw it clearly—Helen's finger had indeed moved.
Excitedly, he stood up from the bedside and leaned down toward Helen, "Helen, can you hear me? It's Harry. Helen, when will you wake up? I'm still waiting for you to become my wife, my bride. Helen, can you hear me?"
Tears streamed down his face in excitement—hot tears splashed onto Helen's face, creating a sparkling mist.
He anxiously pressed the emergency call button several times, but as if displeased by how slow the doctors were, he directly opened the door to call for help.
Just as he got up, his wrist was suddenly held by a soft, almost boneless yet slightly cool hand.
