Eventually, it was concluded that the girl had some kind of mental illness, which led her to that kind of place and commit suicide.
Len Hawthorne squinted his eyes.
What on earth had the Stephens Family done to Little Chloe?
A chill gripped the usually smiling eyes.
Nightfall.
Len Hawthorne stopped the car and covered the girl with the camouflage coat.
He leaned against the car, took out a cigarette, and lit it up.
When Chloe Stephens opened her eyes, she saw the powerful and profound face of the man by the car window. His fingers holding the cigarette were slender, each perfectly long. He looked rather enchanting as he held the burning cigarette, the rising smoke shrouding his handsome face.
No doubt, this man was easy on the eyes.
When he noticed the girl was awake, Len Hawthorne put out his cigarette.
"We're not home yet. Keep sleeping."
Chloe Stephens removed the large coat and rolled down the car window to look at him.