Long ago, when she first met Zane Thorne, Natalie Vaughn noticed something. Whenever the weather was bad or Zane felt the urge to smoke, he would always pinch his left wrist.
But she had quietly observed countless times while touching Zane's hand, and had not discovered any scars on his left wrist.
A person's habit must have a reason for its formation, especially such a subtle physical habit.
Natalie did not ponder anymore, nor did she guess, but instead asked directly.
"What's the matter with your wrist?"
Zane paused for a moment, then reacted, reaching out to pinch Natalie's cheek.
"What could be wrong with my wrist?"
He even openly exposed his wrist for Natalie to examine more closely.
Natalie didn't even glance at it, she stared straight at Zane with calm and resolute black eyes, her hand still tightly grasping Zane's wrist, as if determined to get an answer.
