Joyce slowly walked up to Charlotte, her voice calm and soft.

She looked down at Charlotte from above, a quiet smile blossoming on her lips.

"Do you have any wet wipes?" She reached out, asking Luther.

She knew Luther had a serious cleanliness problem now and could not stand other women touching him.

She's seen a few times where office personnel have accidentally touched him and he's had to wipe up with a wet paper towel for a long time afterwards.

She also knew in her heart that he made an exception for her. Or maybe it had something to do with her that he had developed such a serious cleanliness problem.

So, he usually carried it with him.

Sure enough, Luther took the wet wipes he carried from inside his coat pocket and handed them to Joyce.

Joyce took it and removed the wet wipes.

Charlotte, she slowly and methodically wiped her beloved pistol,

was too dirty. After wiping it clean, she pinned the pistol back

hands clean again, he then discarded the wet paper

gurgle blood, when the pain was so extreme that she could no longer

hanging with her last breath, her face twisted like a ghost,

looking disgusted and disdainful, "Joke, all this time, it's been you who's been lying. Why can't we lie

Charlotte, and he dreamed of killing

wanted to leave the opportunity to

he never made a

mouth and looked at

that the bullet hit his heart, and to this day, his coat

How was that possible?

could he be

of a ghost knocking on her door after all the bad things she had done? She showed a frightened and horrified expression, unable to

Luther laughed softly.

he opened the buttons of his coat to reveal

breast pocket of the suit, a

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