She looked at herself and it was as if they were back in the old rental they once shared.
It was a warmth that gave peace to the heart.
She stroked him over and over, as if comforting a stray, injured puppy, her smile faint, her gaze tranquil, "Louis, you and him are not so different after all."
The dream shattered, leaving nothing but a mess behind.
Louis Snyder abruptly stopped, tugged at the corner of his lips but couldn't manage a smile, only managing to bitterly say, "What are you talking about, sister?"
Hannah withdrew her hand, dimming the smile at the edges of her mouth, "If you don't understand, then never mind."
"Indeed, I don't understand," he whispered.
The boy hung his head again, but this time, there was a sourness at his nose, and his eyes darkened completely, interwoven with a complex and eerie emotion.
Yes, he and George River were the same.
Both of them saw Hannah as nothing more than a replacement.
