Helen Melendy's heart ached fiercely, and her complexion turned a few shades paler.
The face of that woman was the same one she had just seen.
What is the matter with this memory?
Was the woman just now Harry Hall's ex-girlfriend, or was it her brain's memory confusion, mixing people up?
But if there was no such memory, why would her mind have such a vague yet incredibly real fragment, as if she had witnessed it herself?
"Helen? Helen?"
Harry Hall's voice suddenly rang out in front of her, interrupting her thoughts.
She suddenly snapped back to reality and met Harry Hall's eyes, filled with worry that couldn't possibly be feigned.
"Huh?"
"What's wrong? I've been calling you for a long time with no response."
He leaned down to touch her cheek, "Your complexion doesn't look good either."
