Walter stood by the window, peering down. Under the dim streetlight, Quinn was crouched on the ground, carefully scooping up the soil. She ced it back on the cloth, tied it up tight, and cradled it in her arms, just like Alexander used to hold her.


    When she came back, she clung to the bundle and didn''t say a word to Walter. She just sat on the bed, lost in her thoughts. Walter watched her for a bit, then suddenly broke the silence, "Quinn, you know who that person is?"


    Quinn''s eyshes fluttered, and she looked up at him.


    Walter sneered, "So what if you know? Gonna get revenge?"


    Quinn ignored his taunt and asked, "Who is it?"


    "Someone you can''t mess with," Walter replied.


    Quinn stared at him, her voice rough, "What will it take for you to tell me?"


    "Depends on my mood," Walter said, all casual-like.


    Quinn locked eyes with him for a moment, knowing she wouldn''t get any answers. She turned away, ignoring him.Content (C) N?v/elDra/ma.Org.


    Walter got up, strolled over to her, and reached out to touch her face, but she turned away.


    His fingers hung in the air for a second before he pulled them back.


    "I''ll take you somewhere," he suggested.


    "I''m not going," Quinn shot back immediately.


    "Really? Don''t regret itter," Walter pressed.


    Quinn hesitated, still not trusting him.


    Seeing through her thoughts, Walter added, "Guess Abigail isn''t that important to you. If you don''t wanna go, forget it."


    He turned to leave.


    Before he reached the door, Quinn chased after him and grabbed his sleeve.


    Walter stopped, a faint smile on his face as he looked back at her. "Changed your mind?"


    Quinn stared at him intensely. "If I don''t see Abigail, this is thest time I believe you."


    Walter didn''t react. Pointing to the bundle in her arms, he demanded, "Don''t bring that." Quinn frowned and held the bundle tighter.


    Walter remarked, "You keep saying he''s not dead. Now, when asked to choose between Abigail and the dirt, you''d rather choose it. Is Abigail less important than the dirt, or is what you''re holding..." She suddenly raised her voice, cutting him off. "Walter, this is not dirt!"


    "Then what is it?" Walter shot back.


    Quinn looked at him, her gazeplex, and said with difficulty, "This is his blood."


    Walter kept pushing her to admit Alexander was dead, using the most casual tone to say hurtful things.


    Maybe it was because her gaze was so broken, with a hint of pleading, Walter didn''t respond. He just watched her for a moment, then sighed and walked out without saying anything more about putting it down. Quinn held the bundle tightly and followed closely behind him.


    She hated this feeling. She was powerless and could only be manipted.


    Even though she didn''t want to talk to Walter, he had her vulnerabilities, leaving her no choice but topromise.


    Even if he held a knife, she would have to brace herself and face the de.


    They stayed silent the whole way, with Walter driving her to see Abigail.


    The drive felt endless. Whether it was truly a long distance or time had just slowed down, it felt like Quinn had spent a century in that silent car.


    Even with Walter sitting next to her, she felt an unprecedented loneliness, like she was the only person left in the world.


    "We''re here. Get out," Walter said.


    His voice snapped her back to reality, and she looked into the distance.


    She didn''t even know when the time had changed from night to the next evening.