Every time she tried to enter the crowd, the crowd would disperse.
They called her a "little witch," a "man-eating demon."
But even a little witch can feel lonely.
Sitting alone in a corner, she would gaze at the fire, lost in thought, then ask sadly, "Why does nobody like me?"
She was adorable—her mother used to say she was the cutest little princess in the world.
But why did they all abandon her?
At five years old, she would secretly wipe away her tears; at six, she stopped crying, just sitting alone in a daze.
By the time she was seven, Archer had come into her life.
Archer would comfort her, rub her head, and tell her, "Hannah, you're a beautiful star. Many people will like you, starting with me."
In her memories, the boy was always gentle.
He was like that at ten, eleven, twelve, and thirteen years old.
As the boy grew older year by year, he always looked at Hannah with a gentle and indulgent gaze, like a brother who would forgive you for any mischief you caused.
