Thinking about the way she would look in the future made her feel a wave of nausea in her heart, and she couldn't help but feel increasingly disgusted by Henry Ford's twisted taste.
How twisted did that man's psyche have to be to poison her so insanely?
Iris Harris thought about this, her face slightly tightened, and she raised her hand to rub her eyes.
Suddenly, she sensed something, slowly turned her head, and whispered, "Nathan...?"
The breathing in the air was slightly trembling, and after a while, she heard Nathan Nelson's slightly choked-up voice: "Sis, what's wrong with your eyes?"
Iris was stunned for a moment, not expecting Nathan Nelson to still be there.
She heard footsteps, and then her shoulders were grasped by a pair of ice-cold hands, the fingers slightly trembling.
"Nathan..." Iris didn't expect Nathan Nelson to be so perceptive, actually feigning a door-closing sound to confuse her; she didn't want anyone to know about this just yet.
