"So soon?"
Sienna glanced at the clock on the bedside table, lifted the quilt, and laboriously swung her plastered leg off the bed. Then she grabbed the powder from the dressing table and applied it heavily onto her rosy lips, "It takes at least an hour from the airport to here. Did he fly here?"
After tidying up, she did appear quite pitiful.
Sienna satisfactorily closed the powder box, looked once more in the mirror to ascertain her paleness, then pulled the crutch to her armpit, bent her injured leg, and hobbled out of the bedroom.
Two bedrooms and one living room, a simple layout. The master bedroom opens to the living room, so Sienna quickly switched to a mournful expression before opening the bedroom door.
She opened the door, coordinating with a frail demeanor, even her voice softened several degrees, "Director Forrester..."
