Chapter 167

Meanwhile, in a quiet village on the outskirts of New York, the autumn air was beginning to bite. Maple leaves were falling, forming a reddish-orange carpet in the front yard of a simple wooden house. The house belonged to a married couple, Nana and Hans, who had been married for ten years but had not yet been blessed with children.

In a small room on the second floor, a young girl lay in a coma on a bed facing the window. Her body was thin, her face marked with scars that had ...