At that ti, thunder and lightning were flashing outside the villa.
The man strode into the living room, loosely knotting his black tie, his eyes simring with frightening bloodlust and hatred.
Annie Anne was curled up in the corner, her face sickly pale. A sudden flash of bright lightning tore through the sky, illuminating the entire room through thick curtains.
A mont as bright as daylight.
Annie Anne would never forget the expression on the man’s face.
Disgust, loathing, and bone-deep hatred.
His ordinarily clear, attractive eyes were now fierce with bloodlust.
In the depths of the night, amidst the tearing, entangling, dead-like pain, Annie Anne’s mind was terrifyingly clear.
On the ssy bed, the man casually put on his clothes, then leaned over her from behind, his thin lips slightly arched, his voice devoid of warmth.
Just like a demon’s whisper.
"Annie Anne, why isn’t it you who’s dead?"
...
It was not until she was handed a cup of hot water that Annie Anne snapped back to reality.
She jerked away as if electrocuted from the man’s almost touching hand, and then backed away as if she had seen sothing filthy.
This was the nightmare that she could not escape since her mory had returned.
Seeing the terrified look on Annie Anne’s face, a hint of concern flashed in Charlotte Thompson’s eyes. She quickly stepped forward, blocking Annie Anne from Oliver Hudson’s view, and then gently patted the woman’s thin back.
"Annie, don’t be afraid, I’m here."
At this mont, Annie Anne seed like a startled rabbit, seeing enemies in every direction, unsure of where to go, not knowing where would be the safest place.
Upon hearing Charlotte Thompson’s voice, Annie Anne’s scattered pupils slowly refocused.
Only when her emotions gradually stabilized did Charlotte dare to sit up straight and sit down next to her.
Behind her, Oliver Hudson glanced at Annie Anne, an unspeakable pain in his eyes.
Annie Anne, like a terrified bird, leaned against the sofa back for a long ti before she finally closed her eyes in utter exhaustion.
Pulling a blanket over her, Charlotte Thompson carefully stood up and began to leave. When she passed Oliver Hudson, she paused, considered for a mont, and then murmured, "Co with ."
At her words, the man hesitated a mont, but ultimately nodded, getting up to follow her.
It was now midday, the sunlight outside was brilliant, and the fierce sun was hanging high in the sky.
Charlotte Thompson, leaning against the railing on the balcony, felt the dry hot breeze blowing on her face.
She opened the pull-tab can in her hand with a soft sound, casually flicking the tab into the trash can.
Behind her, the man stood with his brows lowered, his hands in his pockets. He lifted his head and complicatedly glanced at Charlotte Thompson.
Charlotte said nothing. After a while, she tilted her head back and took a sip from the can, then asked in a low voice, "What are you going to do?"
Naturally, she was talking about Annie Anne.
Nowadays, everyone could tell that Annie Anne’s condition was triggered by a switch. When Oliver Hudson was in the room, the switch could easily be turned on.
And what Annie Anne faced was the haunting past; mories she wished to forget due to the unbearable pain were returning anew.
Again and again, tornting her relentlessly.
At her words, Oliver Hudson remained silent for a few seconds, before replying slowly, "I said I’d stay by her side, atone for my sins."
Atone for sins.
This phrase sounded ironically comical coming from Oliver Hudson’s mouth.
"Atone for sins?"
Charlotte Thompson chuckled lightly, her voice filled with complexity, "You know what Annie Anne and her mother fear the most."
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