Chapter 392 Vinegar Jar

As Cynthia White gazed at Sawyer Connor, who was lowering his head with an apologetic expression and shimmering eyes, she felt a sense of familiarity. It was as if there had been a young boy in a dim alley, holding her tightly and running through the rain. His face was filled with anxiety, and his golden hair was drenched, sticking to his disheveled face. However, his deep brown eyes were bright, despite being filled with guilt and anxiety.