He Stole My Happiness

If the starting point of love is encounter, then the bifurcation point of love is chance encounter. The boundless night drowned the black shadow curled up in the corner. The petite and thin body was trembling slightly, and the white arms hugged the shoulders tightly. The scene just now seemed like a nightmare, and she would rather it was a dream. When she woke up, everything was as before. But her extremely clear mind made it impossible for her to believe that what she saw was real. She looked forward to dawn. When dawn came, she would no longer be afraid or frightened. Maybe she can still hear her mother gently calling her to get up, and she can even pull her father to take her out to play. Three years later A bustling metropolis...