In the alleyway, high walls stretched endlessly, the evening breeze felt chilly as it pierced through.
Claire Prescott walked disconsolately along the cobblestone path.
As she approached Sinclair Apothecary, she suddenly noticed a familiar car parked in front of her house.
Beijing A license plate.
The man leaned against the car, not doing anything, just patiently waiting.
As he turned his eyes, their gazes met naturally.
Claire felt her heart tremble slightly.
She walked over to him casually and took the initiative to ask, "Are you waiting for me?"
Keane Lowell nodded, quietly watching her.
His brows were steeped in profound depth.
"I... I wasn't feeling well in the banquet hall just now, don't take it to heart."
"I know."
His voice was soft and gentle, as if comforting her.
Claire didn't know what to say for a moment, to break this inexplicable awkwardness.
"I..."
"Claire."
Both spoke at the same time.
