CHAPTER 7

“Does it hurt?” Her eyes become watery. She can’t watch someone in pain because of her clumsiness.

“N-No.” The boy looks away, and doesn’twant to see her cry because she really is about to tear up at any moment.

“Let’s go. Let me clean your wound.” She gently holds his hand and is about to pull him inside the villa but he stops and withdraws his hand covered with dust.

“I c-can…” He clears his throat. “I can handle myself. Just lead the way.”

"If that's what you want." She said in a small voice, embarrassed by what happened.

Mariella walks first and the boy follows him, silently handling the pain in his arm.

"I'll just get the first aid kid. You sit there." She points to the sofa near them. The boy watches her run towards somewhere.

He looks around, only the large photo of Mariella is hanging on the wall across from him. No family photos.

The boy unconsciously smirks when he sees the yellow balloon tied up on the corner. Like what she said, it's not floating anymore. While waiting fo