Margaret sat sideways on a round chair, her eyes brimming with tears of excitement as she watched her family dine.
The virtuous mother was complaining about father, disdaining his large belly and saying he should lose weight, while her brother whispered sweet nothings to his new girlfriend.
The scars on Margaret's face had also vanished, and her body had shrunk back to the shape of a twelve or thirteen-year-old, her face once again filled with the innocence of a young girl.
Time seemed to have regressed six or seven years, back to her happiest and most carefree era.
Tears slid down Margaret's fair cheeks. "It's so good, everything before was a dream, all fake, you are all still alive."
Just as she was about to say something, a large hand reached over from beside her, gently wrapping around her slender waist.
Margaret turned her head to look, and there was Charles, gazing at her deeply as their faces slowly drew closer.
