The door swung open, pushed by a pale, slender arm. The hand was graceful and soft, bathed in the cold white light of the corridor, with a thin ring on the ring finger.
The hand extended into the room, but the figure remained stationary.
"Has Goldalyn come home?" the figure outside asked.
Birdie clenched her teeth, slowly pulling out her knife. Even before the blade was exposed, her eyes were already red. She knew who was outside. Over the past ten years, she had visited the Polluted Zone Five countless times, always deliberately avoiding this area, because he didn't want to encounter this person, nor did she want to see her mutant state.
Just then, a soft hand reached out from the side, holding back Birdie's hand on the knife. Birdie, with tears in her eyes, turned to look and saw Kestrel standing beside her.
"No, Goldalyn hasn't come back yet," Kestrel suddenly spoke.
