His brows were furrowed on his small face, nearly forming a single knot.
A hint of unease lingered in his eyes.
He seemed to have figured something out, but was still clinging to a sliver of hope that he was wrong.
Seeing his expression, Stella Sterling let out a low laugh.
Her voice was tinged with disdain. "Stop with the 'sister' this and 'sister' that. Our ages aren't that far apart. Doesn't calling me that make you cringe?"
Although, she was indeed older than him.
He had only been twenty-five years old when he died, eighteen years into the apocalypse.
If she had lived that long, she would indeed have been older than him.
But she had died in her twenties, and it had only been a little over three years since she came back to life.
Her own psychological age was only in her twenties, about the same as his.
His soul belonged to a man approaching thirty, yet here he was, acting like a little kid and calling her 'sister' again and again.
'Doesn't it give him the creeps?'
