The car interior was astonishingly quiet.
Rachel gazed out the window, calm and serene. Kingsly leaned back in his seat, his posture slightly relaxed, not looking at her. Speaking with the aloofness of a monarch, he said, "Not everyone in this world has compassion, and besides, compassion is reserved for the pure-hearted."
Every time he spoke, it was like a dagger piercing the most vulnerable part of her heart. Fortunately, she was used to it.
Still looking out the window, she replied quietly, "I never asked for your sympathy."
His voice turned colder, "Did you? I thought by telling me it was your birthday, you were complaining that I didn't grant you freedom even on that day."
She turned to face his expressionless profile, retorting coldly, "Isn't that the case?"
