Even if I once thought I truly had a home, time has shown it was merely a foolish fantasy.
Where did he want to take her?
Joy Parker lowered her eyes and thought faintly.
"Are you taking me away?"
She asked softly.
"I am taking you for treatment," Jordan Guthrie's voice trembled, cautious, the person in his arms so thin they were almost just a bundle of bones. When he first saw her, he simply couldn't believe she was Joy Parker.
How could this person be Joy Parker?
The mischievous Joy Parker, the scatterbrained Joy Parker, the Joy Parker he remembered with a gentle face...
How could it be the woman before him.
He almost didn't dare to look at the other half of her face; for a woman, disfigurement is such a horrifying thing, yet when she looked at him, her hollow eyes held only calmness.
It was the calmness of ashes, devoid of any vitality.
"Treatment…"
