Her mind was still in a haze, this familiarity brought her a sharp, fleeting heartache. She opened her mouth, instinctively calling out, "Edw..."
"You have a fever." The man interrupted her, his voice calm and measured, betraying no particular emotion.
Daisy Ginger snapped awake from his indifferent voice and the half-dream half-reality state.
It had been four years, and she had nothing to do with this man anymore.
"I..." She propped herself up, slowly sitting up, discovering that her bathrobe had been changed into a white women's nightgown. Seeing no servants in the room, she wasn't sure if she should ask who had changed her.
