Annie Davidson's name flickered on the phone screen, instantly tugging at his heart.
"Hello? Where are you?"
Owen Lewis asked urgently.
"I'm at the new home."
Owen Lewis was startled; he had searched everywhere but hadn't checked the new home.
"Isn't it still being renovated?"
"Yes."
Annie Davidson looked at the new home, which was mostly renovated, her vision slightly blurred.
Her face was pale, her lips having lost their past color.
A large loose garment made her appear very frail.
Women often let go of their usual strong facade, becoming incredibly pitiable at moments like this.
She stood there with a smile at the corner of her mouth.
Once, she fantasized about her life here.
But she's now entertaining other thoughts.
Judging by Owen Lewis's current actions, he might spend the whole year at the Black Market.
What meaning does this home have?
It's just a cold house.
No matter how warmly it's decorated.
