The man curled his lips in self-mockery. "If I can't find her in one day, I'll do it in two days. If I can't, I'll look for her for the rest of my life."
Hearing this, Matt was a little angry. "You want to look for Evelyn for the rest of your life and then fantasize that she's not dead. You'll definitely find her. How long are you going to lie to yourself? If Evelyn was still alive, she would have appeared in front of you long ago!"
After hearing this, Matt thought that he would have some reaction, some anger or sadness, but the man just raised his hand and pinched his temple, covering half of his face with his palm. He leaned against the sofa in frustration and pain and took a deep breath, his voice was full of powerlessness and pale. "Let me look for it. When I face reality, I will not be far from death."
Matt was stunned by these words. He stared at the man on the sofa. At this moment, he couldn't say anything. There seemed to be a lump of cotton stuck in his throat, which made him blush.
At this moment, Matt saw the man's determination. To him, accepting Evelyn’s death was another kind of death.
More than a month later, at four o'clock in the afternoon in Lownon, Eoland, it was drizzling.
Outside the most expensive private delivery room in the city, there was a rush of footsteps. The nurse who accompanied her looked over and saw the man in the lead. He was dressed in a well-tailored suit. His hair was neatly combed above his head, and there was a pair of gold-rimmed eyes on the bridge of his nose. His facial features were harmonious and extremely three-dimensional. If it weren't for the group of men in black behind him, people would think that he was a senior executive of a technology company.
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