Jennifer Jackman, who had suggested playing this game, was now somewhat sober. With a blushing face, she tried to coax me. "Hans, I just suggested playing such a mean game because I was drunk. If you're still mad, take it out on me!"
I smiled and shook my head. "Why would I be angry with you?"
Actually, I should thank her for suggesting a game that helped me uncover the unusual connection between Rosy and Anthony.
Seeing I wasn't upset, everyone instantly relaxed. But then, Anthony even began recounting the past with smug satisfaction. "Hans, that nickname is from over ten years ago. Back then, Rosy would constantly make me call her 'Wife.' She even changed the nickname on my contact herself."
The next second, I raised my hand.
"Ah!"
A long gash split open Anthony's arm, sliced by the sharp, broken bottle in my grip.
The sudden turn of events left everyone stunned. Only Rosy, who quickly stopped the bleeding, blew air into him and soothed him.
This wasn't the Rosy I knew, the one who fainted at the sight of blood.