When her gaze fell on Dean's somewhat roguish face, she could not help taking a few extra looks.
Sensing the girl's gaze, Dean habitually curled his lips into a faintly weary yet still charming smile. He had long since grown accustomed to this sort of affection from the opposite sex.
In the story, Dean himself was a playboy who loved flirting with women.
Besides, that was simply the prevailing atmosphere here.
If Layla had not fallen ill, the two of them would probably have gotten together that very night.
Wu Heng completely ignored the mother and daughter. His gaze rested on the depths of the hall, as though it were piercing through the walls to sense something, an icy aura that kept strangers at a distance radiating from him.
This body of his was already past thirty, with a cold, stern temperament and an unapproachable air. Naturally, he was not someone a girl like Layla would dare pay attention to.
The three of them stayed at a nearby hotel for a day.
The following evening, the pastor issued another notice. He had once again sensed the Lord's will, and so the prayer gathering was being held again.
This frequency delighted the patients. The pastor had been receiving the Lord's guidance more and more often lately, which was a good thing for the sick—their odds had increased considerably.
If it could be held every day, then all of them would soon be healed.
Inside the central tent, there was the same fervor and the same clamor.
Pastor Le Grange stood onstage, his voice still immensely compelling as he spoke tirelessly of mercy.
Sue Ann stood gently at his side as always, playing the role of the perfect supportive wife. Or perhaps she was not playing a role at all; she enjoyed