Yuria gazed at the man in front of her with wide eyes, then shook her head.

“No…”

His words were just a pleasant facade, and I thought he was trying to make her feel better.

“What’s so pretty about me?”

Nothing about me is pretty.

Not inside, not outside.

Nothing is okay.

Every time I look in the mirror, I see more flaws, and I think I’m not pretty because I leave scars on my heart. There are many people who are prettier and more beautiful than me.

So Yuria shook her head and denied Ricardo’s words. I’m not pretty.