"Can you tell me what's going on?"
Mark Reed ignored her fury and held her in his arms, probing, "Do you know her? Who is she to you?"
In fact, even if Valentine Teller didn't say it, Mark Reed already had a guess in his heart, though he found his own guess rather absurd.
"She is my... foster mother..."
Valentine painfully squeezed out those two words, suddenly feeling relieved, exhaling a breath, leaning on Mark Reed's shoulder, as if all the burdens had been lifted, and she drew a clear line with her past.
From now on, she would never return to this place, never see that woman again.
"She is my foster mother; I was abandoned at birth, and she raised me."
Valentine said softly, unable to help but recall the past.
From a young age, she never enjoyed maternal love; cooking and washing clothes were her daily chores, and any slight displeasure from that woman would result in beatings and scoldings.
In the past twenty years, she never felt warmth, only fear and timidity.
