Philip stood in the damp, moldy room and slowly swept his gaze over every corner.
A few of my old clothes that I never took with me still lay scattered across the dirty floor, and a cheap bottle of painkillers sat on the bedhead.
Perched on the windowsill was a half-dead pathos vine I'd fished out of a garbage heap and nursed along, keeping it barely alive one careful day at a time.
The second Amelia stepped through the door, she clamped a hand over her nose.
Her face twisted with utter disgust.
"Philip, Sophia is really so messy! Even if you two were broke, she could at least keep this place clean, right?"
"You must have suffered so much all these years."
Philip didn't answer her. His eyes were fixed, unblinking, on the creaky, squeaking old wooden bed pushed into the corner.
That
