Wearing her favorite skirt, adorned with beautiful gems,
she pretended to lift her skirt while playing hopscotch.
Archer walked to the bedside and saw the scene outside the window.
So bloody and brutal that a mere glance could induce visceral discomfort.
But Archer's frown just deepened.
He drew the curtains.
The shadow was gone.
Hannah stopped her steps and looked up at him, "Archer, what's wrong?"
Archer noticed the cup on the table.
Water was heating on the fireplace next to him, yet the water in the cup had gone cold.
The little girl had been sitting there for a long time.
This was just speculation, so he squatted down and asked seriously again, "Have you been sitting here watching for a long time, right?"
In her line of sight, as the boy crouched down, Hannah could lower her head to look at him.
She liked this angle because it allowed her to see clearly the boy's beautiful eyes.
"Are you talking about the fight?"
Hannah responded, looking into his eyes.
