Chapter 12

Tears streamed down her face like an uncontrolled river, unable to contain herself, and any attempt to do so would probably have caused her chest to succumb to the pressure.

One of her hands held Peter's, and seeing him in this state filled her with anger, helplessness, and indignation. She felt the urge to break something, anything that would allow her to vent those feelings.

Something inside her had broken, she could feel it, and to her surprise, it didn't terrify her as much as she had thought, although she couldn't explain why.

With a heavy sigh, she sank onto a chair, running her hands through her greasy, sand-covered dark curtain of hair. Disgusted, she felt an overwhelming urge to vomit but managed to hold it back, thinking that if she did, perhaps the pounding in her head might stop, but she restrained herself. She didn't want to be found in that state; she had to maintain the appearance she had to present. "Does it still matter how you look?" she scolded herse