Wayne Bailey's eyes were bloodshot as he lit the lighter, reducing the photos to ashes one by one.
The raging flames devoured everything, even scorching his fingers, but he seemed not to feel it...
Bang.
His crippled body fell off the bed, and Wayne Bailey leaned on the bed railing to get up.
"Young Master, where are you going?" Wilfred hurriedly assisted him, and seeing the master's dejected appearance, his heart ached.
Wayne Bailey tightly pursed his pale lips, pushed away Wilfred, and walked into the bathroom.
On the vanity were a pair of couple's toothbrush cups, with two toothbrushes intimately leaning against each other...
Wayne Bailey picked up the cup, as if seeing the scene of Anna Jadwin sitting in his arms and brushing his teeth for him.
[Wayne Bailey, can't you brush your own teeth with your hands and feet?]
[I'm only responsible for brushing your body and your primitive jungle...]