Sherry White faintly smiled, "I'm fine now."
Her beautiful face was still clear of any gloom, gentle and moving. There was a comfortable smile on her face.
Treton Smith stared at her for a while, then slightly sighed. He still felt guilty towards her.
"Am I a big burden?"
"No."
"I know I might not get better."
"You will."
Sherry raised her head to look at him. Her face still held a smile, but her eyes were slowly turning red. She gazed at his melancholic face, lowered her head, and smiled, "There's no possibility of curing schizophrenia. Even after treatment, one can only maintain improvement or basic improvement. Don't think I'm talking normally now. When a flare-up happens, all I want to do is kill myself."
"..."
