Nathan was angry, and she knew that confronting him at this time could possibly result in her death by his hands.
To survive.
She had to stay rational.
"Lydia, you've always been good at smooth-talking and debating," Nathan's eyes were red, and he naturally thought Lydia's words were questionable, but at the moment, he didn't want to question them.
To question meant indirectly admitting that his ex-wife's death had something to do with him. If he had been sober last night and believed his daughter, maybe his ex-wife wouldn't have died. But he was too drunk last night, too unconscious to think.
Someone had to bear the consequences of things, and it would either be him or Lydia.
Even though he knew that this had nothing to do with Lydia, he still crazily pushed her head against the ground.
Lydia was bleeding all over her face.
Nathan's eyes were bloodshot, like those ancient men who spoke of beautiful women who brought calamity.
