Selma Payne's POV:
My father was the only one who was barely holding on, but his environment was not optimistic. Those conspiracies, those open spears and hidden arrows, those daggers hidden in smiles, those wind blades and frost swords had tormented my father for so many years. His lover and family had always been the solid pillars that supported him. Now that the house was about to collapse, how much longer could my father hold on?
If my father fell, what would the future hold?
Could our family be destined to face a catastrophe? Otherwise, why would so many inexplicable disasters befall our family?
Looking at my mother's dodging expression and resistant movements, my father's tired expression, and undetectable sadness, I suddenly felt the air thin. Every breath seemed to hide invisible needles, blowing up my windpipe and lungs.
