She sat cross-legged on the ground, tugging at the long-unused fishing pole.
The bait on the fishhook had been eaten long ago.
Yet she still hadn't caught a single fish.
At this rate, according to the rules of Fish Retreat, everyone must obtain their own ingredients through labor, she probably wouldn't be having lunch.
But just thinking about Knox Simmons sitting there all serious, also not having caught a single fish, made her feel much better.
Well, if there's someone to starve along with her, that wouldn't be too bad.
Scarlett didn't know if fishing could truly calm the mind.
Her mood had never settled down, it still seemed stuck in the hospital, lingering on those cold and distant eyes.
Some words kept swirling in her ears, refusing to leave.
She didn't want to pay attention, didn't want to think about it anymore, but felt powerless.
Then those cold and heartless words would repeat over and over again, constantly reopening the wound in her heart.
