Merry was in her fifties, but she looked far older than her actual age.
Merry was rail-thin, wearing a dark gray sweater that hung on her frame like a deflated plastic bag.
Her neck and wrists, visible beyond the sweater, were etched with wrinkles, resembling dried branches. Her eyes were deeply sunken, and even when she faced the sunlight directly, they lacked vitality.
Clarice suddenly appeared before Merry. For a moment, Merry stared blankly, but when recognition dawned, her eyes widened and she yanked her hand away.
Seeing Merry's reaction, Clarice became anxious, "Merry, it's me, Clarice. Do you remember me?"
"You... Clarice?" Merry's mouth gaped open as a tall figure loomed before her, cutting off the sunlight like a wall, his shadow swallowing her whole.
Hunter said gently, "M
