"That night, it was on the yacht, wasn't it?" Summer didn't miss her reaction and kept pressing.
Each of her words felt like a knife stabbing into Gina's chest.
The buried pain she least wanted to recall was unearthed, revealing itself once again, cut open repeatedly.
Her lips were tightly clenched, her face pale and frightening, her slender white fingers gripping the railing beside her, as if she couldn't stand steadily without support.
Summer watched her every reaction, stepped forward, grabbed her hand, slightly agitated, "The child in your belly, it's not Jimmy's, is it?"
Bang!
Gina's mind exploded with a buzzing noise.
Summer could sense her fear.
The place where her wrist was grabbed by Summer felt as cold as an icicle.
Summer glanced at her, wanting to hear how she would answer this question.
Gina remained silent after her words.
