Daisy's face was pale, and she was in a daze.
Her trembling left hand held onto the back of her right hand so tightly her knuckles turned white.
To Deanna, it was a scene where a good girl was bullied.
It was as if everyone by the table had frozen in time. Among them, one was furious, and one was upset, but no one knew who was the one who had crossed the line.
Daisy was sitting beside Deanna. Although they were a foot away from each other, the hot dessert was still thrown in their direction.
If Jackson's aim was any lousier, Deanna would have been scalded.
Putting down the cat in her arms, Deanna turned around to hold Daisy's hand and inspect it.
At the same time, Daisy lowered her head as tears fell, looking like the epitome of misery.
Her warm tears rolled down her cheeks and landed on her reddened hand.
