I'm scared.
I'm so scared of the drug, but I'm more scared that Frances will get addicted to it.
If one of us must take it, then I'll be the one.
I take a deep breath and reach out to the bag of powder.
My entire body trembles involuntarily. I have foreseen how disgusting and desperate I will be.
But before my hand can touch it, Frances has clutched it. He smiles faintly and says, "Such a good opportunity, wouldn't it be a pity if I give it away?"
As he speaks, he opens it calmly.
"No! You can't do it!"
I shout inwardly over and over again, but no one can hear it.
"Good. I appreciate your bravery. It looks like Hilda has found a good husband."
Mike smiles and hands Frances a dollar bill.
Taking it over, Frances pours the powder onto it, and glowers at it.
Seems like a painful internal struggle is going on.
Mike grows more and more impatient.
Sensing his hesitancy, Hilda jabs him with her elbow, "Frances, hurry up. It's just a little. You will be fine."
A little?
I want to punch her right in the face.
It is far from a little. It is a lot!
Now, getting addicted or not is no longer the issue here. He can die from a drug overdose!
What should I do? What should I do?
Looking at Frances, I become more and more despairing.
I don't want this. But with my hands tied, I can't do anything but watch.
Eyes bloodshot, I bite my lips hard to utter no sound.
The grief saps my heart so much that I can't breathe.
Fortunately, everyone's attention is focused on Frances, and no one notices me.
I fix my gaze at Frances, afraid that he will suddenly fall in front of me.
But strangely, he doesn't.
Isn't this heroin?
Am I overthinking it?
Without even looking at Frances, Hilda says to Mike, "Now, I get the deal, don't I?"
The urgency overflows from her voice.
Does Frances matter even a little to her?
Mike grins and looked at Frances. He nods, "You really have an excellent husband. It is yours."
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