Kendrick’s expression grew even darker. “Let’s go. We’re finding them.”
Without hesitation, Annabelle followed him back to the beach, and Marvin trailed behind them.
On the short walk back, Kendrick asked Anna a few simple but crucial questions.
“Did they touch you?”
“Are you hurt anywhere?”
“Did they know who you were? If so, why did they dare to bully you?”
Little Anna, eyes still red, answered one by one: “They touched me a little, but I’m not hurt. They knew who I was, but they pretended not to recognize me!”
Kendrick immediately understood. He now knew what had truly upset her.
It wasn’t just that she was wrongfully accused and couldn’t defend herself—it was the fact that he wasn’t there when she needed him most. That feeling of being alone and helpless.
And most infuriatingl
