The bedroom door swung open. Old Mrs. Fu stood in the doorway, her gaze sweeping the room.
Qin Anan was huddled against the wall, her knees drawn to her chest.
Her hair spilled around her shoulders in a tangled mess.
At the sound from the doorway, her head turned slowly, listlessly—
“Anan! What’s wrong?!” Seeing Qin Anan’s face, ashen and pale as paper, Old Mrs. Fu felt her blood pressure spike. “
















