Tara Summer lifts her head, looking at the man's resolute jaw and the impassive handsome face. Her heart slowly sinks, her breath choked in her throat, and her chest feels as if it's about to explode.
"Liam Yancey, what the hell is wrong with you!?" Tara frowns, repeating this sentence many times, but she still doesn't get an answer, which makes her increasingly anxious, "If there's something wrong, tell me. Don't stay silent!"
She grabs his shirt sleeve, pulls it hard, her nails almost sinking into the flesh.
"It's okay, don't overthink it, you're not well, rest up." Liam's face is stern; he gently pats her cheek, and before she can react, he suddenly turns to leave.
Tara subconsciously grabs his shirt, her face already pale. She doesn't speak; there is only one thought in her mind:
