"Arnold Simmons, nobody knows better than you what really happened to my parents' car accident that year,"
he said, word by word, spitting out words as if they were tainted with blood, his eyes filled with restrained hatred.
His gaze was like that of a fierce wolf's, emitting a ghostly green light.
Arnold Simmons' expression remained indifferent; his hand slid into his pocket subconsciously searching for the cigarettes he hadn't touched in a long time.
Finding nothing and seemingly recalling something, a hint of a smile curled at the corner of his lips, which turned into a mocking curve when he looked at Jimmy Simmons standing before him, "It seems that after all these years, you have not made any progress. You take what the media sensationalizes for the truth, but it's nothing but speculation aimed at grabbing attention."
Jimmy Simmons let out a cold laugh, "You know full well whether it's the truth."
