Annabelle Linton didn't look back at him once. Wiping away her tears, she ran to the seaside.
The seawater reflected her face. It was disheveled and dirty.
She straightened her clothes and, paying no mind to the seawater, cupped some in her hands to wash her face.
Annabelle Linton looked at her reflection in the water and felt utterly wretched.
She picked up a seashell and squeezed it hard in her palm.
She squeezed so hard that the shell dug into her flesh, breaking the skin and drawing bright red blood.
The salty seawater stung her wound, but it was as if Annabelle Linton couldn't feel the pain.
She furiously slapped the water, venting her frustration. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to break down and sob.
She hated the hand fate had dealt her. She hated her own powerlessness.
"Annabelle!" Aaron Wyatt spotted her by the sea and strode toward her.
Seeing her red-rimmed eyes, he asked with concern, "What's wrong?"
