It seemed he truly had no intention of helping her.
At this moment, Shalma Hughes recalled the saying that a woman's heart was a deep ocean. That was quite a hasty conclusion, though. It should be Mr. Winslow's mind that was a deep ocean instead.
Forcing her aching, weak body up, Shalma barely managed to stand from the bed. She then took slow, heavy steps toward the bathroom.
It was only a dozen or so steps away, but it felt like she had been walking for a very long time. Every step was sheer agony.
When she finally reached the bathroom door, Shalma reached out and turned the knob. Before stepping inside, she glanced at the man still standing silently by the window. She seemed to feel an unprecedented, icy chill radiating from his very being.
Had she offended him somehow?
But in the next moment, the drug lying dormant within her surged through her body once more. Not daring to linger, she opened the door and hurried inside.
