His two eyebrows were appallingly cool when he saw the real situation under the quilt.
He let it go, and the quilt was thrown to the ground by the force he had just made.
The pillows stood upright as if mocking his insensibility.
Joseph stood on the head of the bed, the blue veins in his forehead almost bursting, his thin lips tucked into a line, and his taut chin forming a cold, angry arc.
Like the moonlight out of the window as water, his eyes grew thinner and colder.
Reaching out and pressing the bedside phone.
After a while, Jessica hurried up to the second floor, nervously entering the bedroom, "Sir?"
Then she mistakenly assumed that something had happened to Irish and immediately explained, "The doctor is going to..."
"When did she go?" Joseph coldly interrupted Jessica's words.
