At the hospital room door, Charles Mcintosh was still guarding.
When Jasmine Yale ran off, he hurried in, "Mr. Cheney, should we chase after her?"
"Let her be, she's leaving tomorrow."
Charles nodded.
If she was leaving tomorrow, there shouldn't be any problems.
Sylvan's expression was indifferent as he walked to the window and silently watched from above.
He hadn't expected to see her today, and upon seeing her, he felt somewhat surprised.
Sylvan's hand rested on the window sill, his deep gaze fixed on the area below the hospital.
After a while, he spotted the faint yellow figure of Jasmine.
She hadn't even managed to grab her scarf and had left the hospital.
Jasmine reached the roadside and hailed a taxi to the hotel.
She had not expected it to turn out this way, coming here only to be driven out, the way Sylvan looked at her as if she were something else.
A soft mist of tears formed in Jasmine's eyes, hanging on her long eyelashes.
