[American Horror] Light Addiction

?The beat of the metronome in the SKYPE window is becoming more and more rhythmic, Dr. Beth's voice is full of strange ethereal inspiration, and Aimee's consciousness gradually sinks into nothingness.

blah blah.what is that soundIs it a metronome?No, it was the bell, it was the sound of footsteps.

A funeral was going on in her mind, and the mourners kept coming, walking and stamping, until the atmosphere of the ceremony grew stronger.When everyone was seated, the ceremony began, the sound of the drums, heavy and powerful, beating, beating, until her brain became numb.She heard them lift the coffin, heavy footsteps, swaying, her soul creaking.

The death knell is ringing all around, heaven is like a bell, existence is such an ear, she is so quiet, always silent, like a different kind, here alone, here rotting, lost support, rationality begins to collapse, she falls from heights, falls .

The moment she stepped on the air, she suddenly woke up.At this moment, the hall clock struck the seventh.She lay in bed like a withered violet petal floating on the sea waiting to rot.

Many days have passed since Dr. Beth's diagnosis and treatment. At [-] o'clock in the morning on October [-]th, Pacific time, even the west coast has lost its enthusiasm for summer. A hazy flame that has lost its stamina.This sunny and vibrant city finally has some calm and cool taste of autumn evening.

Time went on and on, and after the consultation, her condition did not ease, but became more and more serious. She often fell into the mood of corruption and even expected suicide for no reason. When she returned to her senses, she broke out in a cold sweat.

She just occasionally loses enthusiasm for everything around her, even something as simple as raising her hand and pressing the ringing cell phone.The opposite of depression is not happiness, but vitality.

She forced herself to sit up from the bed, and opened the lock screen of the phone - a new email just received lay leisurely in the center of the screen.

Several black words are entrenched on the white base: I'mcoming.

The signature is only one letter J.The fonts are fancy and gorgeous, and are not included in the commonly used pattern fonts, so additional programming is required, and they are rarely used by people who pay attention to efficiency.

The moment Aimee clicked on the email, she immediately stiffened, the nerve cells in her fingertips seemed to be necrotic, and it was difficult to remove from the J.

Only barbarians who betray God will be eaten by machines and forget the font created by God.The man had said so.

Unconsciously, she bit her lip, and the salty feeling of blood seeping into the tip of her tongue pierced Aimee's dull and sluggish consciousness, and she suddenly broke away from the dream-like disbelief.She opened the search engine, and quickly entered the words Southern California State Prison, Prison Break, and James Wilson, until the news she saw was still from many years ago, and she took a big breath as if she was alive.

Despite this, she subconsciously pressed the shortcut key and dialed the number of her biological father, Mr. Bennett.

The call was connected with a beep, and she couldn't help showing the sweet smile that 16-year-old girls usually have, "Dad."

However, the voice she was expecting didn't come from that part, instead it was a familiar female voice who was just waking up lazily: "Hi, Aimee, Aaron hasn't woken up yet."

"...Doctor Beth." She heard her own voice responding slowly, heard the male voice that was a little hoarse because of just waking up from the electric current, and heard the sound of lips touching. Sparks burrowed into the gasoline pool, slammed her critical moment, and burned her self-control.

She controlled herself to hang up the phone, but threw the phone off the bed angrily.She sensed that something was wrong, but she was powerless to stop it. There were two pieces of her in her body, one was weak and melancholy, the other was hyperactive and full of anger.She thought of Kitty the cat, yeah, that was her medicine, the medicine that had been with AimeeBennett all along.

But nowhere.

She shouted Kitty's name hysterically, while turning over the carpet and pushing it to the bookshelf, the falling books didn't calm her down, and even irritated her more.She caught a fallen book and tore it apart vigorously. The scattered papers fell like a funny funeral in a dream.These did not ease her anger in the slightest.

At this moment, there were three knocks on the door without haste.The sound was like a basin of ice water being poured over the head in the hot summer, which instantly calmed down Aimee's scorching nerves.

People who come here don't think of him except Tate Langdon.

In the past ten days, although Aimee's illness has been repeated, her roommate plan has unexpectedly progressed.

AimeeBennett is indeed, as Biker said, a complete freak, lonely and uninteresting Nerd, she is not interested in sex and parties, punk rock, and current affairs gossip.She rarely thinks about many things, and even if she does, she is used to being silent. She is more used to listening to the emotional Rae talking about the gossip about cool guys in Lincolnshire, like a carrion absorbing the lively vitality from her.

But the way of getting along with Tate is completely different. She, who is used to silence, doesn't know why she will argue with him endlessly, arguing which of Dickinson's poems is closest to the quality of death, and which ones are just girlish melancholy.She would occasionally argue with him, and Tate would often be amused by her seriousness, and then bowed down.

Aimee is getting more and more cheerful, and she will tell him her thoughts. Some things, she sees and thinks in her heart, but she no longer thinks about it secretly and doesn't say anything like in the past.

They had known each other not long ago, but they had a speculative agreement that they would hate to see each other later.

They seem to talk about everything, but never touch their lives.

As if adhering to the invisible principle, they stood at both ends of the seesaw and kept a close distance, no one moved forward, and no one was willing to leave, so they maintained a close friend relationship that was farther than confidantes.

That's why she absolutely, absolutely mustn't let Tate see her crazy rabies. Tate was her only friend besides Rae, and she didn't want to be defined by him, except by him - his crazy friend, his psycho roommate.

She didn't have time to give up on herself, and quickly restored the room. Fortunately, the knock on the door didn't ring again until after the work was over.

Aimee opened the door with a swish, and met the boy's slightly surprised black eyes, he didn't seem to expect her to come out suddenly.But soon, he raised his lips and smiled, unexpectedly did not mention the long wait just now, as if he didn't know anything, he leaned against the door, put his hand in his pocket, and mentioned just right: "I just saw Kitty hopped up the attic."

"...attic?" Aimee was a little puzzled, she didn't remember any attic here.

"Follow me." He turned around and took her hand naturally.

She followed him to the corridor on the second floor, and belatedly realized that the situation seemed familiar, and even his words seemed to be verbatim.

But this time it didn't take long, Tate stopped quickly, he raised his head to look at the ceiling, Aimee followed his line of sight, there was a switch-like wire hanging from the ceiling.

Tate jerked the thread down, and a piece of the ceiling snapped open inward. Aimee felt that Tate was a little inexplicably excited. The next second, Tate cocked his mouth and bowed his waist, like a cat, and jumped up into the upper chamber nimbly.

Aimee was stunned. The boy lay on the entrance and stretched out his hand to her, with a bright and wanton smile on his lips. Aimee swore he was laughing at her cowardice.So she took his hand forward without hesitation. Fortunately, there seemed to be climbing rings on the wall. With the help of Tate, Aimee finally climbed up to the attic.

The attic is surprisingly spacious, the floor is covered with red rose-patterned carpets, the furniture is complete, and there are even desks and cabinets, but it seems that it has not been cleaned for a long time.

Tate stood in front of a wooden table, opened the drawer, took out a stack of papers, and shook Aimee, "Look what I found."

Aimee walked over and found that those were all photos, which seemed to be taken a long time ago, all in black and white, but also with some elegant classic charm.In these photos, Tate seems to have a special liking for a certain one. He pulled it out from many photos, and stared at it with eyes focused on nothing else. Aimee leaned over, it was a solo shot of a lady, with noble and elegant femininity, and a slightly proud body, even in black and white photos, it seemed to exude golden brilliance.This is a great photo for portrait copying.

Tate quickly put down the photo, and Aimee subconsciously looked back at the photo carefully, feeling familiar, and slightly surprised that she cared about it inexplicably.It must be because it is so suitable for portrait copying, definitely not because of the way Tate looks at it!

The boy was still holding her hand, unaware of the ups and downs of Aimee's mind behind him, he pulled her closer.The walls are colorful like children's graffiti, and are also covered with small balloons of various colors that seem to be filled with water.

The sky light reflected his golden curly hair and black pupils that were bottomless but seemed to be bursting with fire from the sky. He opened his hands in the dazzling light and murmured: "When I no longer believe in God, I come here to relieve my pain." resentful."

His voice was almost a whisper, and Aimee only caught the words "God" and "Resentment", and the broken beads couldn't string together the whole sentence.

Tate turned his head, he brushed away the messy forehead hair, put one hand around her back, placed her shoulder on the other side, and pointed to the wall: "When a brand new canvas is unfolded, what is the first color we want to paint? How are we going to paint what pattern?"

He leaned closer to Aimee and whispered in her ear, "Now, you don't have to think about these, just paint whatever you want."

He straightened up, picked up the dart on the wooden table and threw it at the balloon on the wall, and then he still had time to turn his head and smile at her, "Let's see what we will draw."

Aimee imitated his example and tried hard to pass, but the stamina was always insufficient, and most of the darts fell before reaching the wall.As time went by, her cheeks flushed, a little more bloody than usual.

Tate stood behind her, put his chin on her shoulder, held her wrist, and threw the first dart in an almost hugging way. The pink paint poured from the burst balloon, very much like Aimee's face at this time .

Aimee quickly grasped the essentials, although the speed is far from Tate, but the accuracy is getting better and better.This kind of joy of investment seems to be contagious, lingering in the closed space, Aimee unknowingly becomes more involved, and the melancholy lurking in the bottom of her heart quietly dissipates without a trace.

Colored paint gushes through the air and splashes onto the walls, drawing unpredictable patterns.

They collapsed exhausted on the red carpet, the two hiding in the shadows separated by a slanted spot of skylight.They tilted their heads to look at each other's cat faces stained with paint, and laughed at each other.

The brisk aftertaste is still vibrating in the air, like ripples spreading and disappearing, and the silent calm is restored.Quiet but not awkward.In such a peaceful silence, Aimee's consciousness was a little fuzzy, and she was about to step into the dreamland, when suddenly she heard Tate say: "She often has an affair with her neighbor, and she let her lover kill my brother."

Inexplicably, Aimee was sure that "she" was Constance next door, and Tate tightly pursed his lips in the shadows, stiff as a silent marble statue.

Aimee was panicked by Tate's disclosure of the murder case, and flustered by him suddenly breaking the boundaries. She subconsciously looked at the wall in front of her. The backlight was colorful and overlapping. From this angle, it looked like a horseshoe with a long tail. demon.

"My dad left us early. I used to look up at every plane that passed overhead, expecting him to come back and take us away from that disgusting cheater. Disappointment after disappointment..." Tate closed In my eyes, I seem to have seen the child standing in the courtyard and praying with his head up many years ago, "After a long time, I will not even think of him when I see the plane. Watermark paintings, and then guess what kind of paintings will be brought by the next plane." Unknowingly, the anger brought by his father gradually subsided, but there were always more troubles waiting to be detonated.

His voice was soft and slow, so flat that no trace of emotion could be heard.

Aimee is not good at comforting others, and secretly forms a natural alliance. Maybe knowing other people's secrets, it seems easier to reveal herself. Aimee paused, "Beth Lorraine, the most likely candidate for my stepmother, is also my attending doctor. In fact, I once pushed her down the stairs, the kind of spiral stairs, and she fell bloody .”

She hadn't realized that she had revealed what she had been trying to hide all along. She turned her head to observe his expression openly. He didn't disappoint her. Although he didn't speak, his eyes admired him, unlike the hearsay and self-proclaimed righteous Lapuluo townspeople. .

"Beth Lorraine, she's using me," she said, as if she couldn't go on, but Tate's eyes gave her courage, "I saw her cheating with my dad, but she said it was my hallucination , " Her face was tense, like a cold dummy.Yeah, how could anyone believe a mental patient, even her father locked her in a closet as punishment for lying.

"Renee, I mean my mother, she doesn't believe me either. In fact, even now that she's remarried, she thinks she and Dr. Beth are good friends." Renee has always had the best kindness for others, and she knows the result intellectually It's normal, even emotionally, she thought she didn't care, until the unexpected confession.

She was sent to Litton by a personal injury case written and directed by Beth Lorraine, but the key to her discharge was still in the hands of Beth, just because Beth was her psychotherapist and only because of her post-traumatic stress reaction.

She fell silent, unwilling to recall that although she met Rae in Litton, it was not a good place for her.

After the explosion, she was a little tired, but the long silence made her more worried about Tate's reaction.

Maybe it shouldn't be said so much?She secretly regretted it, and glanced cautiously out of the corner of her eye.

Tate was leaning on his elbows, looking at her sideways with his head tilted. His golden curly hair was exposed to the sunlight from the skylight. His eyes were bright and lively, and a dimple appeared at the corner of his mouth. The bright and vivid smile seemed to generate an inexplicable magnetic field, driving silk Strands of golden light trembled in the suddenly lively air.

"If it was someone else, I would tell him that someone who doesn't love you the way you expect doesn't mean he doesn't love you," he said with a childish smile, "but if it was you, Aimee, F*u*c*kitoff !【Went to his!】"

Aimee smiled unconsciously, and they held hands in the sunlight.

☆, rival

?Tiffany stained glass is smudged with deep and shallow blue gradients, just like the color that blooms instantly when a butterfly flaps its wings. It carefully and rigorously filters out the clear and bright sky light, leaving a blurred and dizzy light cluster in the hall.The chandelier hanging on the ceiling emits smoky light, making the room darker and darker.

Moira, who was dressed in a shabby black and white maid outfit, followed the strange rule of returning to the old house on Thursday, wandering in the lobby, bypassing Tate and Aimee sitting on the sofa, and she touched Tate with inexplicable eyes, and then respectfully said Ask Aimee: "Miss Bennett, did you find the kitten?"

Aimee shook her head.In the attic that day, Aimee and Tate only found a handful of cat hair, and Kitty was still nowhere to be found.

Moira sighed regretfully: "It's a pity, such a cute cat. You should sterilize it in advance to prevent it from running around on the road. Many cats died on the road at the door."

Aimee was slightly startled, she thought it was Kitty's occasional trip, if it wasn't for her sick period, there would be no problem at all, but now, Kitty might not come back.

She was about to say something when Tate put his arms back on the sofa and touched Aimee with his right hand.He raised his head and smiled, briskly and casually: "Maybe Kitty is sleeping somewhere."

Moira met Tate's eyes and showed an indescribable expression again. She didn't say anything, and turned her head to clean the kitchen.

Aimee set up the drawing board, and when Kitty disappeared, she had no choice but to find ways other than pets to distract her depression.Painting helps her focus, and it is easier to maintain peace of mind when she has nothing else to do.She's trying to concentrate here, but Tate's interested gaze is a distraction.In view of Tate's firm opposition to giving up this right, the two compromised with each other and nestled on the sofa to look at Aimee's picture album together.

At the beginning, most of them were copying ordinary plants. There were many kinds of Phalaenopsis orchids in Lily of the Valley, and the plant shapes became more and more strange, such as those orchids whose petals resemble monkey faces, flying ducks and even naked people with straw hats. Under the shadows that can be painted black, the branches covered with dry petals are faintly revealed. After careful exploration, those flowers turned out to be childish faces, with distorted faces and wide mouths as if trying to break free from the flower branches.

Tate's eyes paused, and he turned the page as if he hadn't found anything. Aimee, who had just let him open it, suddenly tried to stop it, but it was too late.

The drawings are all sketches of the same person.

That person was very familiar to Tate himself.

Aimee's face suddenly became hot. She picked up the pen and subconsciously described the first thing that came to mind, just out of habit, and maybe it didn't have any special meaning.She secretly hoped that the always considerate boy would ignore this matter.

Of the two, Tate was always the one setting the mood, never making Aimee feel awkward or restrained.But this time he was clearly not so kind.

"Have you seen Rembrandt's flowers?" the boy asked, without waiting for Aimee's answer, "I like his "Saskia as Flower God" the most, he and Saskia were very in love at that time , even the strokes are different from before.”

He leaned his elbows on the sofa, turned his head sideways, raised the corners of his lips, and smiled in his eyes, "People usually think that painters like to record more real emotions, such as Dali, Picasso and Gauguin, so there are Dali's Madonna and "Lady at the Window" by Picasso."

Saskia, Gala and Marie-Thérèse Walter are not only the painters' muses, but also their soul confidants.

Aimee tried to ignore the obvious joke in her eyes, she pushed him away, and sat back facing the drawing paper as calmly as possible, she did well, if the pencil she was supposed to hold in her hand didn't fall off.

She reflexively wanted to pick it up, but she didn't expect that the boy was already short, and they were so close in an instant, she caught off guard and looked into his clear and bottomless black pupils.For some reason, he and she didn't distance themselves. He had a gentle look, and the fire was dancing in his eyes. Aimee could even hear the crackling of the flames in the air.

She almost thought what was going to happen to them.

An urgent doorbell rang to break the tense atmosphere.

Aimee froze slightly, then quickly stood up calmly, walked to the door, and the young woman with retro hair looked at her through cat eyes.This is definitely a candidate beyond her expectations. Just a few days ago, she concluded that she was a noble lady from the last century.

The beautiful woman who looked like a lady bent over and raised her eyebrows, "Are you the new mistress here?"

She had obviously settled on some kind of fact, she didn't need Aimee's answer, and immediately said, "I'll get my things back."

"What do you want?" Aimee didn't let her guard down, after all, she knew nothing about this woman.

Yet a hand passed her and pushed the door open, and she turned her head. Tate stood behind her, put his arms around her shoulders, looked down at her suspicious eyes, and said firmly, "Photo." He raised his eyes again, and met the eyes of the blonde woman - Aimee noticed that they seemed to have reached a tacit understanding ——The young woman still standing outside the door smiled at Tate, and seemed to be talking to Aimee, "Yes, I'm here to take the photo."

Tate held Aimee sideways to make way for the door.Without the barrier of glass, Aimee, who was facing the unexpected guest directly, could feel her oppressive light more directly. Her slender neck is graceful, her temperament is elegant, and her gestures seem to bring out the sensuality and light of the golden age.

The classical beauty, who is far more than beautiful and can be summarized, looked at Aimee, "Nora, you can call me Mrs. Nora." She looked at Aimee with a faint smile, and her amiable demeanor unconsciously revealed a bit of arrogance.

But Tate didn't want Aimee to have more contact with her, so he directly asked Aimee to go to the attic to get Nora's photo.

"Maybe it was the last tenant—the gay couple, they seem to have a good study of light and color," he explained to Aimee with a shrug. "It's normal to take a retro photo for extra money."

It was indeed a very reasonable reason, so even though she was inexplicably concerned about the relationship between Tate and Mrs. Nora, Aimee went upstairs without any excuses.

It didn't take long to take the photo, after all, Aimee was quite familiar with it, but for no reason, she subconsciously walked lightly outside the living room, and didn't even open the door to go in.

"Baby...pregnant...promise...[baby...pregnant...promise...]"

"I just can't...【I can't...】"

Aimee caught a few words, and there seemed to be a dispute in it, but the sound insulation effect of the old house was unexpectedly good, so she couldn't hear more words.After a while, the living room returned to calm, and she couldn't hear the slightest noise.

Surprised, Aimee tilted her head and carefully looked in through the Tiffany glass——

The blond curly-haired boy is leaning on the noble and beautiful woman, and the young woman is also putting her hands on his shoulders. The two people's blond hair blends together, forming an intimate and harmonious scene.

Aimee slammed the door open, with a sullen face, she handed the photo to Nora, and said coldly without being rude: "Your photo belongs to the original owner."

Nora took the photo calmly, glanced back and forth between Aimee and Tate meaningfully, and then left without looking back.

The back of the blond woman disappeared from view, Aimee looked away, still unable to express her anger, she glanced back at Tate, the boy was in a daze, she couldn't help but glared at him, and hurried up the stairs.

Since that day, the cold war between Aimee and Tate began, to be exact, it was a unilateral cold war between Aimee.She began to avoid being in the same places as Tate, and even when she couldn't avoid it, she kept herself busy, cleaning and tidying up, always ignoring him for a valid reason.

And Tate still doesn't know what's going on.

In fact, Aimee couldn't see herself clearly either.She attributed her unwarranted anger to her ignorance of her roommate.Yeah, she didn't know much about him, except that he was the son of Constance next door, that his father had run away, that he liked Emily Dickinson, and that even the reasons for his moving here were her own guesswork.She had never been close to his heart.At this time, Aimee, who was full of frustration, completely ignored the fact that she was trying to avoid asking about the other party's past.

She once read this saying in the forum: Men prefer young girls when they are old, and mature and plump women when they are teenagers.Mature and plump, she repeated viciously in her heart, bit her lips heavily, and didn't know who she was angry with.

It was already the fifth time of cleaning, and Aimee wiped the window pane vigorously, as if taking it out on some jerk.

At this moment, a black figure appeared on the window.

Aimee turned her head stiffly, and in front of her was a masked intruder wearing a black rubber suit holding a knife.On the contrary, her brain calmed down unexpectedly, and adrenaline was secreted rapidly. The intruder seemed to think that the 16-year-old girl did not need any precautions. He relaxed his vigilance,

Unexpectedly, Aimee finds the right time and escapes!

However, the opportunity is fleeting, and there will be no second time.After some chasing, Aimee, who escaped temporarily but was weak, was quickly pulled back and pinned to the window sill in the corridor on the second floor.

Aimee watched him raise the blade in horror, and the intracranial pressure rose instantly.

It might as well be that the man threw the knife to the ground, followed by a familiar hearty laughter.

"It's me." She watched dumbfounded as the rubber man in black took off his headgear, and the deep and light golden colors poured out, revealing a face with a pure smile.

Langdon!After reflecting, the irritation of being teased made her pale cheeks flush.She turned her face away and didn't want to talk to him.

Tate leaned closer to her, and gently stroked her hair as she struggled, which calmed her down a little.At this time, he tilted his head and rubbed her nose, and the originally low ending sound had a soft meaning: "Don't be angry with me again."

angry? ! Aimee herself doesn't know who she is angry with, if she is angry with Tate, what position is she taking?She was just an ordinary roommate he happened to meet.

Aimee's thoughts are disordered, and Tate's eyes are as cold as ice.If Tate had been a native of Ladprao, he would have found that this was how Aimee faced others.

Unfortunately, their relationship was surprisingly harmonious from the beginning, and Aimee had never shown such a cold look to him except for the first time.

Tate was a little flustered now, his eyes were clear and moist, he leaned close to Aimee's neck like a dog, and murmured: "Don't be angry."

Between rubbing back and forth, Tate's blond hair brushed the sensitive area of ​​her neck repeatedly, causing waves of itching.The ticklish Aimee burst out laughing.The momentum has dissipated, so naturally there is no way to persist.

Knowing that this was a sign of reconciliation, Tate breathed a sigh of relief as he put his hand against the wall next to her head and took Aimee into his arms as he tried to retaliate with an eye for an eye.

Aimee hadn't noticed that the distance between their bodies was about zero. She could only see Tate's neck that was getting closer and closer. She planned to come back as a prank, but suddenly felt Tate's body stagnate.

At the same time, she was keenly aware of a sense of spying with resentment, which seemed to be absent, and seemed to be an illusion.

With a slightly condensed expression, she looked up and asked worriedly, "What's wrong?"

Tate stared through the window at the window on the same floor of the opposite building, which was empty.His eyes flickered slightly, and he smiled calmly, "It's nothing." But his subordinates hugged Aimee tightly.

☆, confrontation

?The house is like a huge magnetic field, and Moira is a moving electric charge that is strongly attracted. She seems to put all her life in the house. Aimee wasn't surprised and didn't mind seeing her here more and more often, even though she often stared at her oddly and seemed hesitant to speak.

Another weird Thursday.

When Moira showed that look again, Aimee was already familiar with it. She was about to go upstairs when she was unexpectedly stopped by the taciturn maid.

Aimee stood on the stairs and looked down at her. The red-haired old man raised his head and said respectfully, "There is something you need to know."

"What?" Aimee didn't think she and Moira had anything to do except the house.

"You come with me." Moira seemed determined to show her something.

Aimee watched strangely as she pulled a shovel from the basement.Then the maid took her to the flower bed in the courtyard and began to dig the soil.

digging...

She dug the soil slowly, but unexpectedly powerfully, and soon dug a deep hole.She looked serious and muttered something.

From the corner of the eye, Aimee caught a glimpse of familiar ginger fur. Aimee froze, approached Moira, and looked into the pit with her head.

"what are you doing?"

Before Aimee could see clearly, someone pulled her back. She turned her face to the side. Tate hugged the long-lost chinjila cat, and looked at Moira coldly.That sentence was obviously questioning the maid, and Moira ignored him. She looked at the cat in Tate's arms inexplicably, and her cloudy one-eyed expression came to light.With a shovel in hand, she glanced at the boy standing next to Aimee with one eye, and there was a brief confrontation between the two.

Aimee didn't seem to notice their weirdness, she pulled out the shovel from Moira's hand without saying a word, and walked back to the hall quickly, as if she was avoiding something.She grabbed the shovel tightly and looked back towards the courtyard, as usual, there was no abnormality.However, a short stay in the courtyard was enough for her to be sure that it was not her illusion.

Recently, she has felt more and more clearly that the eyes hovering around her are like a shadow, and she deliberately found out—especially just now, almost blatantly spying—like a big net that fell from the sky, and it was difficult to break free , but fleeting, unable to grasp the source of prying eyes.The provocative behavior made her even more restless, and worse it brought a sense of familiarity that Aimee was trying to forget.

She didn't tell anyone about her speculations and worries about her messy past, except Rae.

The black-haired girl in the video rested her chin and was as optimistic as ever: "You must be thinking too much. If this happens, Lindsay? Lohan can become a good girl!"

Rae's consolation was not enough to dispel her doubts, but at least it calmed her depression. She was inexplicably sure that no matter what was behind it, it would surface sooner or later.

"Don't be suspicious, or your sweet boy will be worried~" Rae held his face in his hands, his narrowed eyes glared.

"Rae, this is the living room!" Aimee frantically turned down the volume, only to remember that she was wearing earphones, she raised her head and carefully looked around, Tate was sitting a few meters away, Kitty was docilely nestled at his feet, it seemed that she would not Noticed here.She breathed a sigh of relief.

Rae's enthusiasm for Tate continued to rise, Aimee began to become cheerful, and finally had a look of an adolescent girl, and Rae attributed these changes to Tate.This caused Aimee to spend twice as long as before changing the subject.By the time the doorbell rang, they had talked about everything from their Halloween costumes to Aimee's planned Christmas present for Tate.

Aimee withdrew from the chat with Rae and was about to get up when Tate smiled at her, signaling that she didn't care, so she sat down again and put on the earphones again after seeing Tate walk towards the door.She didn't hear the sound of Tate talking with anyone, and only thought that it might be a passerby who walked through the wrong door, until the sound of high heels stepping on the floor got closer and overwhelmed Rae's nonsense in the earphones.

"Aimee," the person put his hand on the girl's shoulder, Aimee dodged on a conditional basis, she stood up abruptly, and the earphone was forcibly pulled out from the computer jack by her sudden movement. Aimee didn't pay any attention to the earphones that fell on the floor, she stared at the uninvited woman in front of her, "Doctor Beth, I think we have reached an agreement