Aldana was eating at the time. After hanging up Norris's call, she immediately stood up from the dining chair, draped on her down jacket, and walked outside.
Eric and Ellen exchanged a glance, a trace of gravity flashed across their faces, and they stood up in succession, chasing after her.
November in London, the temperature was only zero degrees, and the road was icy. The air was misty, coated with a layer of water vapor, and the distant sea appeared gray, Aldana plunged into this mist, muddled, her mind filled with—why?
He was actually getting discharged.
Getting discharged, why wouldn't he come to see her?
For the past two months, she had been anticipating his return, so even though there was no chance to meet him yet, she held onto her expectations. Two months wasn't long, but she endured. But why? Was he really not willing to see her even before being discharged?
