Jimmy Simmons remained silent, shifting his gaze away from the woman.
He brought the cigarette to his lips, and the thick tobacco scent seemed to carry a burning temperature, infiltrating every corner of his body.
He sneered, his voice falling like shards of ice, "Tiffany, was it really you who saved me?"
His cold words were like sharp blades mercilessly slicing through the skin, piercing flesh.
A biting pain burrowed into her bones, and even her breath carried the heavy scent of blood.
Tiffany Lynch stared blankly up at the man in front of her, her eyes reddening and swelling as if she had forgotten how to cry. All that was left was her nearly tuneless voice, "You… what do you mean?"