Claire Sinclair smiled faintly and said matter-of-factly, "When I was a kid, my dad used to beat me. One time, I came home late, and he broke my leg. Then he locked me in a pitch-black room for several days.
When they finally let me out, I was apparently in a coma for a long time. The doctors said there was nothing physically wrong with me, but ever since then, my legs freeze up whenever I'm terrified or panicked. To this day, I still don't know why."
She recounted her story as if it were nothing, then gave a small laugh to herself and looked at the man's grim face.
"Mr. Quincy, I'm just a cripple with unreliable legs. I'm completely useless to your political career and might even become a stumbling block. Have you considered divorcing me?"
Adrian Quincy's cold eyes narrowed. 'So the bruises on her calves are from abuse at home.'
'No wonder Quinn was so worried about her. So she's been miserable at home all this time.'
