Joanna heard our footsteps and slowly lifted her head.
I admired her bloodied and dusty face. She looked like she had been locked up here directly after I flung her to the ground and beat her up that day.
There was no treatment or medication; her hair was stuck to her forehead with blood, her eyes were deeply sunken, and the wound on her chest looked scabbed over but not well recovered.
I observed coldly that the shackles locking her up should have been mixed with wolf poison to inhibit her recovery rate.
Joanna's eyes flashed with surprise, then with etched hatred.
"How dare you come here, you b*tch..." Joanna's words ended abruptly as Michael appeared from behind me.
I could see that she had changed her face to a charming and pitiful look. I snickered in my heart. At this point, she thought her trick was still effective, but it was good. I let Michael himself break her last illusion.
