Charles Seymour felt as if something exploded in his mind in an instant, dust flying everywhere, not a single piece of the crumbling ruins intact, his thin lips moved slightly, but he couldn't force out a sound, staring at Sophie Wilson in a daze, like a puppet that had lost its soul.
"Hey, are you okay?" Sophie Wilson waved her hand in front of Charles, his eyes dull and lifeless, truly a bit frightening, causing her heart to panic.
Charles grabbed Sophie's hand waving in front of him, his eyes fierce like a beast seeing its prey, his repressed voice hoarse as if honed by millennia of sandstorms: "Why? Why would you want to forget everything? Why choose hypnosis to forget everything? Why not wait for me to return? Why not tell me?"
A barrage of disordered questions, one after another, like a cuckoo lamenting with blood, reaching the pinnacle of sorrow.
