"No, no, no, I had to still be dreaming."
Roy braced himself with both hands and sat up from the ground. He stared fixedly at Mia standing before him with an incredulous expression. She did not look anything like a patient who had just been discharged from the hospital.
Roy sprang to his feet, stretched out his dust-covered hands, and touched Mia's smooth, clean hair and cheeks. Mia immediately looked angry.
"Are you trying to get yourself killed, Roy Smith? Am I your hand towel or something?!"
"Looks like it was real."
Roy smiled sheepishly, wiped his filthy hands on his pants, then bent down and gave Mia a huge hug.
"Honestly, you're so dirty—"
Though Mia spoke with disgust, her hands still instinctively wrapped around Roy's broad shoulders. Even though his work clothes were covered in dust and sweat, where Roy could not see, a happy smile appeared on Mia's little face.
After hugging Mia, Roy stood up and looked at Dumbledore, who had been silently watching the two of them from the side with a complicated smile on his face.
"Didn't you say yesterday that Mia would be discharged soon? Why was she discharged today?"
"Was today not within the range of 'soon'?"
Roy gave Dumbledore a speechless look. So this old cleric had been playing word games with him.
Not in the mood to deal with Dumbledore's word games, Roy bent down and carefully examined Mia's condition.
"How do you feel? Is there anywhere that feels uncomfortable?"
Mia understood that she was the culprit behind all this chaos. Roy's gentle concern and hard work made her feel terrible. Looking at the sincere concern and tenderness on Roy's foolish-looking face, the tears in Mia's eyes began flowing uncontrollably.
"I'm fine."
"What's wrong with you? Did you get sand