The Perfect Scapegoat

I arrived at the hotel at 8 p.m. that night. Inside the room, Nadine had already cleaned herself up. Compared to a few days ago, she looked much better. Though the bruises on her face remained, she appeared more composed and refreshed, no longer carrying the same air of defeat.

Seeing me, she tugged at the corner of her lips, managing a bitter smile. "Serena, I'm not even sure if I still have the