In her dream, she was still a child of four or five, able to cry and act spoiled in front of the old man, yet the old man, who always indulged her, simply stroked the top of her head, continuously sighing.
It was as if he truly was powerless.
"All right," the old man said, taking her hand and leading her into the house, "We're here, let's just meet."
Amanda Smith was forcefully pulled into the hall by Mr. Johnson, whose appearance captured the attention of everyone present. Amanda hid behind the old man, not daring to look outside. Her complexion was almost transparent, and her heart was trembling with fear.
She knew what would happen next, what would happen in the future, meeting that person, falling in love with him, enduring torment and humiliation, and then dying from her own hand.
If she could change it, she didn't want to see him again.