CHAPTER 41 His True Identity

  A prison is never short on stories.

  The eighteen-year-old girl, dressed in a white long dress, still carried an air of youth despite her now-clumsy gait. Her hands, resting awkwardly at her sides, betrayed her nervousness.

  I pulled my gaze away and looked at Lucas. Compared to earlier, I had calmed down considerably.

  "What's the truth?"

  Lucas took a drag from his cigarette, his free hand reaching to hold mine. I instinctively tried to pull back, but he tightened his grip, leaving no room for escape.

  "Let's talk in the car. I stood all night; I'm tired!"

  Stood all night?

  I realized I could no longer remain indifferent around Lucas. Even his exhaustion in his voice made my heart ache.

  We climbed into the back seat. I deliberately leaned against the car door, putting as much distance between us as possible.

  "Why are you sitting so far away? Afraid I'll eat you?" Lucas leaned back in his seat, his faint smile tinged with weariness.