"Margaret, hey, you are Freya." There was deep sadness in his blue eyes, and the corners of his mouth curved in a self-deprecating arc.
"Margaret, if I can, I really want to strangle you to death with my own hands. Do you understand, do you really mean it?" The young man's hand held her collar tightly, but he was unable to let go.
"Freya, it's good that you can live. Brother, it's really worth it." Whose voice was floating in the air, but there was no shadow?
Bell was always so gentle and indulgent towards her, as if she were fragile porcelain, "Don't be afraid, I have a sister."
And she said, "Why do you have to decide my fate? Who should I go with? Whether I live or die is not up to you! I don't need you to sacrifice for me!"