Claire Prescott stayed alone in her bedroom, her brows knotted.
She felt as if there was a hole pierced in her heart, unsure of what could fill it. If Finn Prescott treated her worse, perhaps it wouldn't hurt this much.
Yet he was so good to her, indulging her temper, being patient with her, spoiling her to the point where she felt he could pluck stars and the moon from the sky for her.
Whenever she wanted to accept him, the image of her mother lying in a pool of blood after falling from the building would flash in her mind, and the hatred would uncontrollably transfer to him.
Her eyes grew moist as she fetched her phone and followed her heart, sending a message to Keane Lowell.
[Are you free?]
[I want a hug]
…
In less than an hour, Keane Lowell's car appeared at her doorstep.
Receiving his call, Claire Prescott ran outside.
As soon as she got into the car, she saw him close his laptop and put it down, it was clear he was busy.
Was she disrupting his work?
