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Chapter 1355: Story : The Dead Wedding Crasher
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... y her grandmother’s hands.
It hung on Ava’s body like a memory that refused to die.
Now, the hem was soaked in mud and blood.
Ripped at the thigh. Torn across the back.
She never got to wear it down an aisle.
Only through alleyways and over barricades.
Running.
We were holed up in an abandoned florist’s shop, the kind where dreams used to bloom.
Petals long wilted, stems dry as bone.
But that wedding dress, even shredded, st ...
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