"It's okay now."
Evan Ford endured the pain in his shoulder and comforted Serena Wells.
In his gentle and soft words, Serena Wells gradually calmed down.
She sniffed, looked up, and saw the blood stains seeping through Evan Ford's white shirt.
How did there get to be blood stains?
Serena Wells was slightly stunned, realized instantly, and became flustered with a sobbing voice.
"I'm sorry, Evan, I didn't know it was you, I didn't mean to hit you."
She mistook him for a bad guy and hurt him.
"I'm fine, just a little injury, don't cry."
Evan Ford smiled and soothed her.
"You sit down, let me apply some medicine."
Serena Wells wiped her tears away and rushed to get the first aid kit.
Evan Ford opened his mouth, said nothing further, and sat on the sofa.
He looked around, his gaze landing on the dead rat on the ground, his eyes slightly tensed.
A dead rat, red paint splattered, door locked...
Who exactly is behind these little tricks?
"Evan, can you take off your shirt?"
