That photo album meant the world to me—it was filled with pictures of my family, my loved ones, and he called it trash?
Honestly, I'm starting to think his heart must be made of stone.
Doesn't he have any basic respect for the dead?
Seeing Luka's smug, arrogant expression, I couldn't hold back anymore. I went up and punched him.
It's hard to believe, me, a sickly person, suddenly erupted.
He was stunned, staring at me with wide eyes as blood dripped from his nose.
Before he could hit back, I gave him a friendly reminder. "There's a tiny camera in the southeast corner of the ceiling. If you dare lay a hand on me, Lyra will be the first to know."
Luka's raised fist slowly lowered again as he watched me storm out, slamming the door behind me.
As soon as I stepped outside, I could hear
