I sigh tiredly. I’ve been in Fred’s room for almost an hour, but Fred is nowhere to be found.

 

I wonder how long it takes to make chicken soup.

 

Finally, the door open and Fred walks in with a tray in his hands.

 

He puts it on the nightstand and carry the plate of soup. He sits on the bed next to me and pass me the soup.

 

I take a spoonful and gulp it down my throat, I close my eyes and moan at the taste.

 

“Now, this is what I call a chicken soup!” I said.

 

“So…you like it?”

 

“Yeah. Thanks”

 

I see him smile, but he quickly...