132. Homework

"I think a month," blurted Zia Scott.

"Or a year?" added Gray, who just followed Zia's nonsense comment.

Martha's forehead wrinkled. "What?"

"Auntie, eat," Zia said in a panic and handed her a piece of bread.

"Yes. Eat, Martha, you must still be really exhausted." Gray handed her the jam.

"Thanks, kids." Martha softly chuckled.

***

"So what's your favorite cartoon, Sophia?" asked Edward, still laying down on his hospital bed. His oxygen mask had already been removed an hour ago at noon although the IV, collar and ECG machine still remained. He could already speak with no brakes, and his upper muscles were already mobile although his lower limbs would still ache and there were still hints of frailness from his listless way of speaking and his torpid movements.

Zia, who was seated on a stool beside him, answered, "Uhh...Tom and Jerry?"

Edward softly chuckled. "They're still airing that?"

Considering the five-year old little Sophia was actually a facade of the twenty-five-year o