In the room, the warm yellow light spilled all over silently.
Against her midnight blue dress, it was like a bright starry sky.
She then noticed that on her left arm, there was indeed a bloodstain. The wound was not too deep, and not too shallow. The blood had dried and coagulated. It must have been cut by those punks during the fight just now.
She remembered one of the punks wore a sharp claw-like thing on his finger, so it must be him.
At that time, she focused solely on the fight, and did not feel any pain at all.
"Just a minor injury." She didn't think anything of it.
But, suddenly, she exclaimed, "Oh my God, I broke my dress!"
She caught a glimpse of her sleeve, which had been torn open with a slit in the expensive fabric! She hurriedly checked the rest of the dress again, and surprisingly, it was cut in more than one place and was thus definitely beyond repair. She hadn't noticed it at all before.
This dress had cost her a fortune and she only wore it once!
It was simply heartbreaking and what a pricey dinner she just had tonight!
Luther was amused to see that she did not care about her wounds at all, but instead cared about her clothes and did not resist him. It made him feel good.
"Which is more important to you? Your clothes or your life?" He asked her with a raised eyebrow. She sat in his arms, only thinking about her clothes, and did not resist.
Holding her at the moment made him feel like he had traveled back in time to the days before he had lost his memory and hurt her.
The way she looked at the moment, the tone of her voice, the things she cared about all pointed to the same possibility.
He was more and more sure that she was Joyce, and there was no mistake.
"Of course the clothes are important!" Joyce answered without thinking, "It's expensive, okay?"
Only when she started her own business did she realize how hard it was to make money, not to mention the fact that she had to raise Anderson.
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