The whistling wind assailed from all directions.
The enormous factory was in chaos. Years of wind and rain have left it ruinous, filled with junk, half-eaten animal carcasses, devoid of any signs of life.
Yvonne Finley adjusted her posture, looking around and finally set her gaze on the couple standing in the distance. Isn't it Uncle Michael and Aunt Elizabeth Sanders?
They were once aristocrats too.
Now, they appeared in tattered clothes. Their handsome facade had vanished within a few days, leaving behind a face filled with vicissitudes and malice. Their weight loss was evident. Given the food waste around, it was clear the dilapidated factory was their shelter.
They once arrogantly disregarded human life.
But now, tides have turned.
Yvonne Finley ignored the sharp pain in her chest and chuckled lightly, "Caught me, why not kill me?"
