Hearing Amelia's playful words, Owen laughed, pulling her tighter into his arms, his large hand caressing her slender back, and whispered, "Sleep."
He had seen the transformation in the little girl.
The former Amelia always liked to keep things to herself, sometimes so deeply that even Owen couldn't guess her thoughts.
Now, she would sometimes tell him things, not intentionally, but as an unconscious act of trust.
Winning her trust, Owen felt very gratified.
He also watched as she became less quiet and lifeless as when they had first met, becoming lively, and sometimes even playful, like a child.
She was only twenty-one years old, and compared to him at thirty-four, she truly was a child, and he was very happy to see her cheerful and carefree like one.
The night passed without words.
The next day, early in the morning, Monday.
Amelia woke up in Owen's arms.
