Roman Gilbert

Racheal asked the nurse questions.

The nurse had offered to take the couple up, instead of simply directing them to the ward Roman Gilbert was at.

The nurse told them that it was not so much the burns but the poisonous gas the patient had inhaled that kept him here all these months.

Racheal held her breath as she stepped into the ward.

The man lying on the bed was young, she suspected, in his early thirties.

Even with the burns and how emancipated his body looked, you could tell that at one point, he had been good-looking.

She and Steffan drew closer to the bed as the nurse said, “Mr Gilbert, you have visitors.”

The man opened his eyes, and slowly turned to look at them.

He stared at them blankly.

“Hello.” Racheal said, awkwardly, leaning down a little.

She couldn't help but curse whoever did this to the people in that camp.

This was the worst thing anyone could do to their fellow human being.

She almost thought all the people who died were lucky as she looked at the man's scar