I'm the only reason why he was here?
I chuckled, then stopped short when I saw the myriad of emotions in his eyes, the story in them, the seemingly want in them for me.
He generally looked like a puppy panting after his master for a tap on the head. He looked at me like I was a drop of water needed by a traveler in the dry sandy desert.
But I knew Adam. I knew what he had done.
And as I stared at him, my mind reeled off his deeds again-not that I ever forgot his inhumane acts-my hands clenched into tight fists, as I struggled to hold back the urge to slap him.
The anger bubbling inside me threatened to overflow, but I forced myself to remain composed, to keep my emotions in check.
What was Adam's plan? How could he look so serene, so calm, while talking to me as if nothing had happened? It was infuriating.
