When Hai Daye opened his eyes in the smell of disinfectant, what his fingertips touched was not the white sheets in the hospital duty room, but coarse cloth bedding with a musty smell. She sat up suddenly, the dull pain in the back of her head making her vision dizzy. What she saw was an adobe wall covered with yellowed old paper, and the window lattice was made of rough wooden lattice, covered with a layer of translucent paper, letting in some gray light.
This is not the Music Therapy Department of the Third City Hospital where she works. She remembered working the night shift last night and playing the harp all night for a depressed patient who was prone to self-harm. She fell asleep on the piano in the early hours of the morning. How could she end up in this place as soon as she opened her eyes?
"Ahem..." A weak cough came from his side. Hai Daye turned his head and saw a little girl who was so thin that she was just skin and bones.
