Whispers Turn to Whimpers: Could He Ever Change?



"Grandma." Francis frowned, his voice heavy with concern, "Gilbert's not as bad off as it seems. Aside from his head, he's pretty much fine all over." Other than a few scrapes and bruises across his skin, there were no broken bones to worry about.

"Indeed."

Sylvia gently touched her grandson's cheek, "Look at his complexion, just like he's merely sleeping."

Her gaze suddenly shifted to Sherilyn, grasping her hand, "Sherilyn, you've been such a trooper, staying by his side, talking to him. The doctor said Gilbert's doing well in all other aspects."

Feeling the intensity of the old lady's stare, Sherilyn felt the weight of expectation heavy on her shoulders.

With a slight furrow in her brow, she replied, "Grandma, I'll try my best, but I can't make any promises."

"That's okay, dear!"

Sylvia patted her hand, her eyes brimming with tears, "I'm not trying to pressure you, but given his condition, we must do all we can, right? After all, you've called him 'big brother' before, haven't you?"

"Mhm." Sherilyn nodded, her gaze lowered.

"Francis."

Sylvia turned, instructing Francis, "Please have someone tidy up around here, and make sure Sherilyn has everything she needs."

"Don't worry, Grandma." Francis nodded, "I would have seen to it even without being asked."

"Indeed."

Sylvia sighed, tears swirling in her eyes, "The two of you have been so close since you were little, having been through life and death together... Just a grandmother's needless worries."

Given Gilbert's current state, it wasn't suitable for too many visitors at once. Soon after, Sylvia, accompanied by Francis and Caroline, left the room, leaving Sherilyn behind.

Before leaving, the grandmother held Sherilyn's hand, earnestly saying, "Bless you, child, for all your efforts."

...

Sherilyn pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed.

The room was quiet, save for Sherilyn; the nurse had stepped out to fetch medicine, and the caretaker was busy elsewhere.

Following the doctor's advice, Sherilyn knew her role was to keep Gilbert company, talking to him.

But what to say?

Even to encourage him to wake up, she couldn't very well speak of reconciliations or growing old together, could she? "Hmph."

Sherilyn smirked, a chilly laugh

escaping her lips, "Look at you, head all banged up, yet you had the nerve to dash off to Sunset Ridge Community like a daredevil. With all that bravery, how come you're lying here in such a sorry state? You think I'm moved by this?"

"Gilbert, you better listen up."

Sherilyn lowered her gaze, her voice cold, "You don't have the right to just sleep away. For Jenna's sake, you can't afford to let anything happen to you!"

The only response was the steady hush of the breathing machine.

Sherilyn's eyelashes trembled as she took out her phone, opened the music player, and played the tunes she often danced to.

"Let me tell you about Jenna."

This was something he'd want to hear, and she wouldn't have to force any false sentiments.

"When Jenna was born, she weighed a healthy six pounds and seven ounces..."

As she reminisced, Sherilyn's lips curved in a smile, her eyes slightly moist, never expected, given my not-so-large belly, that she'd be a good size. The nurse was also surprised..."

"She's such a good girl, hardly fusses at all, sleeps right through after feeding... When she was six months old, we weaned her off night feedings without a peep, sleeping soundly till dawn..."

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She spoke softly, detailing the moments, while the man on the bed remained silent, asleep to the world.

That evening.

At the Johnson Mansion.

Francis came to bid Sylvia goodnight.

"Francis, perfect timing." Sylvia gestured for him to sit down, "Grandma has something to ask you."