Dorian’s expression softened, and his voice was as gentle as ever.
“No need. I don’t see her.”
Dorian glanced at the massive landfill and frowned.
How could anyone find a single piece of paper in there?
It was like finding a needle in a haystack.
Lilian’s voice was full of joy. “Then hurry back, Dorian. I’ll be waiting.”
Dorian agreed and, without further hesitation, turned and left.
Watching him go, tears streamed from the corners of Grace’s eyes.
Her heart felt like it was being torn apart.
So Dorian was just like the others. He had long since stopped being on her side.
Once Dorian was gone, the drunk finally let her go.
He couldn't help but sneer, “How pathetic. He was right here, but one phone call and he’s gone. Looks like you’re just like this trash, pretty thing, ready to be thrown away at any moment.”
“Why don’t you just give in to me? I’ll treat you right.”
He reached out and ran a hand over Grace’s smooth, pale shoulder.
The silky texture made the drunk almost drool.
Grace quietly grabbed a piece of broken glass and slashed it across the man's arm.
Blood spurted out. The drunk yelped in pain and released her, cursing, “Damn it, you cut me?!”
Seizing the opportunity, Grace grit her teeth and scrambled to her feet. Fueled by a desperate will to survive, she ran like a madwoman.
The drunk quickly recovered and gave chase.
Grace knew she couldn't outrun him.
She had to find another way.
Her eyes fell on a discarded wardrobe nearby.
She sprinted toward it and, just as the drunk was about to grab her, she used all her strength to push it over.
The wardrobe landed squarely on the man’s head.
His vision went black, and he collapsed, unconscious.
Grace staggered away.
On the road, a pair of bright headlights suddenly blinded her. Grace’s body swayed, and unable to hold on any longer, she fell to the ground.
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