She quickly approached and, disregarding everything else, reached out and grabbed Christopher Robinson's collar.
Looking down on him, she gritted her teeth and stared at him: "If it were you, I'd kill you."
Amelia Cobb, in her rage, didn't see this.
As she charged toward Christopher, he reflexively hid the hand holding the cigarette behind his back.
It seemed as if he was trying to avoid burning her.
Their eyes met, and Christopher didn't dodge her gaze. He stared straight at Amelia.
Finally, he said heavily and calmly, "Fine."
That night, Christopher's word of "fine" marked the end.
Amelia let go of Christopher's collar, squatted down in front of him, and burst into tears. Her heart-wrenching sobs were like a mournful requiem.
In June of his 10th year, Christopher had not yet turned thirty.
He had seen countless women cry in front of him — relatives, subordinates, enemies.
But no matter how heartbreaking the cries of others were, he always felt like a bystander.
But now,
