Arnold Simmons turned to his side, his eyes deep and filled with a grave sense of crisis. His gaze fell on the dense forest shrouded in the night in the distance, as he listened to the report from his subordinate over the phone.
As he had suspected, the Simmons Clan had started to make their moves.
Before the news was even confirmed, they had impatiently issued an obituary.
Sensing a gaze from behind, Arnold turned to see his little lady propping her cheek up with a beaming smile on her face.
Her gaze fell on his legs.
Upon thinking of something, Arnold hung up, pushed open the French windows, and walked in.
Hannah tilted her head curiously and remarked, "Mr. Simmons, look at that, a medical miracle! You can walk again."
She raised her eyebrows, extending a snow-white little arm towards him.
Arnold took her hand with a somewhat helpless expression, pulling her into his arms, "Are you angry?"