Yara Quillan paid no mind to Henry Lester's expression as she walked out, one step at a time.
The night was dark, and a bone-chilling wind blew, yet Yara Quillan felt nothing.
'Sharon Grant, what do you even care about anymore? Didn't you always say I was the one who stole your things?'
'Since you've already said as much, and since I have nothing left...'
'...then why don't I actually do it?'
'Sharon Grant, does hurting me really bring you so much joy?'
'I never wanted to fight with you before, but starting today, I don't care if you're really sick or not. I will never let you off the hook!'
'Since killing you isn't worth it... how about a life worse than death?'
'That feeling... it must be wonderful, right?'
That night, Henry Lester followed Yara Quillan. He trailed her all the way from dusk until dawn. She just kept walking and walking, and he stayed ten meters behind her the entire time.
