Raising her head, Sparkle looked at Evan Saint with a distressed face, "My legs are weak..."
She didn't want to seem so cowardly, but she really couldn't stand up.
Amused by her timid appearance, Evan Saint chuckled as he helped her undo the seatbelt, asking softly, "Can you stand up?"
"Weak..."
"Mrs. Saint, you really are such a wimp." Despite his words, Evan Saint picked her up in his arms.
Leaning against that warm chest, listening to the strong heartbeat, Sparkle felt like she had come back to life.
What kind of twisted game was that, who invented and designed it? They should be taken out and beaten with sticks, it's so anti-human!
Looking down at her resentful face, Evan Saint couldn't help but tease softly, "You're just too much of a scaredy-cat."
"How do you know what I'm thinking?"
"It's written all over your face."
"Really?" Sparkle instinctively touched her face.
"Idiot."
