"Script."
"Oh?" A script? Looking at the cover, why doesn't this look like a script, Carla Carr thought mischievously, snatching the book from Eva Nightingale's hands and, without hesitation, read out loud word by word: "&#％*♀✘$#＆✘#*＆..."
It was a passage inappropriate for children.
Eva was dumbfounded. Was what Carla read really a script?
It was clearly something inappropriate for children.
Carla closed the book, placed it in front of Eva, and pointed to the big words on the cover: "Eva, is this the script you're reading? Hahahaha..."
The book warned that it was not suitable for those under 18.
"Script, took the wrong one." Eva embarrassingly explained, though it was a weak excuse. At that moment, she wished she could find a hole to crawl into and never come out again.
Damn, she was so embarrassed she could die.
Carla was laughing so hard she couldn't catch her breath, teasing Eva with the book: "You actually hid from me to read this stuff?"
