George River stood to the side, watching her gently comforting another man, watching her tenderly wipe fresh blood from his forehead, watching her give her tenderness to somebody else. He clenched his teeth, his rationality being gradually corroded by anger.
The familiar pain in his heart swept over him again, he felt something was gradually slipping out of his control.
Perhaps, once it slipped away, he could never grasp it again.
A tremendous sense of loss swallowed up the last remnants of the man's sanity.
He threw himself forward and grabbed Hannah Winter's wrist. With a fierce tug, he pulled her up from the ground. With his back against the tree trunk, he glared at her with fierce eyes, his voice as sharp and cold as an ice edge, "Hannah Winter, you wanted money, didn't you? I'll give it to you."
Hannah said nothing, just looked at him, her eyes seemed filled with self-mockery and desolation.
