In the mirror, Clyde Summers had drawn two deep and thick nasolabial folds on his face, and his wig was worn crookedly.
This was not an old man at all, clearly a comical clown, yet his serious and focused expression broke Atra Blanc's heart.
"Is the age difference really that hard for you?" Clyde held her shoulders, looking at the man and woman in the mirror, "...So hard that you'd even run away from home?"
Atra Blanc's eyelashes trembled slightly, tears falling, "I'm scared... I don't want to go home..."
Clyde asked her, "What are you afraid of?"
Atra Blanc closed her eyes and said softly, "In the future... maybe I'll become like my mom, my memory getting worse, forgetting everything... I can't ruin you, you should go find another girl."
