Abducted

“Octavia dear, what's the matter? Y'know, you can always tell your mother everything. Right?”

The aged woman with short luscious crimson red hair, Mrs. Catrina — Octavia's mother, coaxed softly.

It was a few minutes past noon, and unarguably, something troubled her daughter. She showed hints of uneasiness throughout the previous night, but currently, it was hellishly clear.

Catrina's health was on the verge of being fully better — the paleness of her complexion ceased to exist, and her once chapped lips were now incessantly stretched into a smile.

Although the doctors here advised another day should be spent here to run a few more tests, Catrina was too concerned about her unsettled daughter.

The duo was seated on the spacious bed of the ward — while Octavia sat at its edge with red eyes transfixed on her phone, her mother sat upright but constantly leaned into the soft pillows.

Her hand reached for her daughter's, and at the contact, she broke her gawk from her phone.

“M-mum?”