Knowing that her tear-streaked face and disheveled hair probably didn't look good, she hugged his waist tightly and buried her face deep into the man's embrace.
She felt his warmth, and her inner fear silently dissipated, "I knew you would come."
The girl still wore her pants, but her sweater, the only thing left on her upper body, had been torn beyond recognition, hanging crookedly on her. In the light, the bruises on her forehead and the slap marks on her cheeks were horrifying.
Lu Huai'an's dark eyes were shadowed and sinister.
His fists clenched, as if suppressing something.
His dark eyes closed briefly, and when they reopened, there were no emotions left to explore on the surface.
"Don't be afraid, it's over," Lu Huai'an patted the girl's back, then pulled her out of his embrace and draped his coat over her, "Besides your forehead, where else are you hurt? Can you walk?"
