When she woke up again, she was already in the hospital.
She didn't know how long she had been unconscious, and her breath was filled with the bitterness of disinfectant. Norris coughed softly and weakly looked at the ceiling above her.
The IV bag hung there, and clear liquid slowly trickled down the plastic tube. When her gaze moved downwards, she saw a pair of slender, fair hands.
Treton Smith was leisurely sitting on the sofa. He was holding a fruit knife, peeling an apple. The noon sun was shining perfectly on his white shirt. Facing the light, his handsome face looked as delicate as a god's.
Norris squinted her eyes and couldn't help but think that the fruit knife in Trenton's hand looked just like the one she used to try and kill herself.
"Why does the angel in heaven have such a face?" She said, sounding annoyed.
"Norris, logically speaking, you should be in hell." He continued to peel the apple while answering indifferently.
Norris closed her eyes, thinking that if going to hell meant not seeing that face again, she would really want to try it out.
Moreover, she was now in a never-ending hell.
She didn't die; she was still alive. She clearly felt that the gates of the eighteen layers of hell were slowly opening for her, and Treton Smith was the executioner who would torture her.
However, there was nothing she could do to resist at this point.
"How long have I been unconscious?" She asked.
"Three days." The man put the peeled apple on the side table and played with the fruit knife in his hand. He narrowed his eyes with a faint smile, but his body suddenly leaned towards her. His tone was slightly mocking, "Norris, if you really wanted to die that day, you should have stabbed here."
He raised his long, beautiful hand and pressed the fruit knife against her chest, his voice becoming even gentler, "If you died, I might have considered letting Luke Moore and the others go." Although he said this, the sarcasm in his words became even heavier, with a hint of anger.
It seemed her suicide attempt that day was somewhat unexpected for Trenton Smith.
Norris laughed, "So, Mr Smith feels that Norris is trying to pull off a trick with a body-double?"
The next second, she reached out and grabbed the knife blade with her hand. In a flash, the loosely held fruit knife was seized by Norris, with its sharp tip thrusting towards her chest!
When the knife was about to plunge into her chest, the handle was once again grabbed by the man.
"Norris!" Trenton gripped the knife handle, his voice tinged with hidden anger.
If he hadn't grabbed the handle in time, the knife would have pierced Norris's heart in an instant.
Trenton's gaze turned cold as he stared at Norris' smiling face, his eyes unfathomable.
The sharp knife point was just a hair's width away from Norris's chest. She looked straight into Trenton's eyes, her gentle voice carrying a hint of laughter, "Mr. Smith was right. Last time, Norris didn't think it through." She held the knife blade, slowly pressing the tip downwards, "This time, I'll definitely grant Mr. Smith's wish. I only hope Mr. Smith will keep his promise and let my family go."
She had always understood how much he hated her. The ill-fated calamity started because of her, and if it could end because of her too, that would be the best outcome.
Treton Smith slightly narrowed his eyes, looking at the smile on Norris's face. As they locked gazes, his gentle expression slowly faded, leaving only a trace of cold indifference. Norris looked at his face, observing the cold air between his brows and eyes. A person's true nature lies not in what they reveal outwardly, but in what they hide from others.
And the Treton Smith right now was the real Treton Smith.