Jane didn't frown, her small face darkened.
Mabel Doyle curled her lips into a smile, tinged with bitterness. She didn't make a sound, turned over to lie flat on the bed, and stared at the ceiling again.
The crystal chandelier on the ceiling, under the faint light, emitted a ghostly glow, somewhat dazzling.
She closed her eyes, and in the pitch blackness, a handsome male face flashed in her mind. Her chest tightened, she abruptly opened her eyes, and in an instant, that piercing pain surged up inside, so intense that it suffocated.
Mabel bit her lips, turned over to face away from Jane, silently saying nothing.
