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Luther watched her disappear behind the door of the room, never to be seen again.
He sat dismally in the sofa, unable to extricate himself from what she said for a long time.
In his hand, he still held the cold blade.
He numbly put the apple into his mouth, but could not taste anything. No sweetness, and not even sourness.
"Pop!" The fruit knife fell to the ground and he did not know.
A sense of powerlessness almost overwhelmed him. It was a sense of frustration that he had never felt before, and his mind went
blank because of it.
If there was hatred in her heart, as long as she could revenge or vent her anger, he might still have a chance.
But she said the only way to really not care was to not hate...
It was true. If you did not even have hatred in your heart, that meant you simply did not care anymore. Naturally, he would never
ever have a second chance.
He crouched on the couch and suddenly felt unable to breathe. His chest felt so stuffy that not even a single breath of air could
enter.
It hurt... It hurt so bad.
It hurt ... It hurt in his chest ... It hurt in his heart.
It's been four years, and he's been in pain for four years.
Every day, every minute, every second, just whenever he thought about her, every cell in his body would be flooded with pain.
‘Joyce, if it was really you, why on earth didn’t you want to show your true face.’
‘Why on earth do you refuse to admit it? Why?"
It was only after a long tthat he could finally take a breath.
Finally, he found it, the faith that he could live on with.
Follow on NovᴇlEnglish.nᴇtIn the past, everyone said she had perished in the vast sea, but now at least she was still alive, and he still had hope, right?
After Joyce returned to her own room, she took a deep breath, but did not feel relieved.
She took off the dress she wore to the dinner party, and then she realized that her dress had actually been cut in several places, so
it seemed that the dress was completely ruined.
She dropped the dress to the trash can annoyedly.
Looking in the mirror, she removed her mask, which she hadn't been able to do last night and she had worn it for a bit too long this
time. Her skin needed a good rest.
After a quick shower, she put on her pajamas and sat on the couch.
She turned her head, and outside the window there was a bustling night scene. She raised her eyes and was dazed by the night
view.
She then thought about the scene just now when he held the blade in his hand, and her mind was a bit confused.
The only way to really not care was to not hate.
The reasoning was simple and the words were easy to say.
It's so hard to actually do it.
Right now, she only wanted Charlotte to pay in blood. Besides, she must find out the truth about what happened back then, and
seek justice for all.
As for the rest, she didn't want to think about it for now.
It's tto find herself a place to stay. She could not always live in the hotel and meet him every day.
When she thought about it...
She picked up her phone and dialed Kane's number.
Soon, the call was answered.
"Sister, you are now back to the hotel? Nothing happened afterwards, right?" Kane said with concern.
"It's fine. Just a normal chat with him.”
“How about Anderson? How about putting him on the phone?" Joyce asked.
"Sister, Anderson is asleep.”
"Then don't bother him. Did he have a good ttoday?" She asked with concern.
"Well, Anderson said he was quite happy. By the way, Sister, someone gave Anderson an Al pencil.”
“There is no model number, so it should be special, or for exhibition only."
"Al pencil?" asked Joyce, puzzled, "A stranger gave it to Anderson?"
"Hmm. | have checked it and it's just a normal pen, with nothing really special. No bugs installed and no built-in programs.
Anderson wouldn't say who gave it to him, and he only said that it was a man. | think this pen is worth at least twenty to thirty
thousand, so | feel the need to talk to you." Kane said.
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