Luke glanced at the vending machine around the corner.
A young woman in her early twenties was gripping onto the vending machine with one hand and covering her back with the other.
Her face was blue and she was biting her lip hard. Tears and snot ran down her face, causing her mascara to run, like the female lead in a horror movie.
But the woman was crying soundlessly. Intense pain spread upward from her lower torso.
She could only open her mouth and take deep breaths.
The woman was wearing a white shirt, a flashy denim vest, and a pair of very tight jeans, which looked very trendy.
At that moment, however, her shaking thighs were clamped together.
With one look, Luke understood why she was the victim.
Her companion was a slightly plump woman in home clothes who was much luckier and who was asking in an anxious voice what was wrong.
Luke could only shake his head in sympathy.
