"Spencer Sullivan..."
Just now it was like her recurring nightmares, suddenly waking up, she let go of the man's shirt that she had gripped tightly, pushed him away, and stepped back.
Almost falling.
Caught by the man's hand, timely lifting her from her waist, preventing the fall.
Yvonne Young's body was trembling uncontrollably, her legs unable to support her; she could only rely on the man's strength.
Spencer Sullivan didn't know why Yvonne Young was like this, so weak that any slight disturbance could destroy her.
He lowered his voice to the minimum, "What's wrong with you?"
Yvonne Young had already sobered up, but these few short minutes brought back too many memories, as if she had relived them all over again, exhausted to the core.
Her expression was blank, and she didn't speak.
Just now, she ran out of the room. Spencer Sullivan glanced inside the house, and it was pitch black with no light at all.
There were no streetlights nearby either.
