Night fell—
Shirley Grant walked out of the airport, exhausted, with the 1.9-meter-tall Andrew Davidson beside her, standing out a mile.
"Whoa, it's been so long since I came back."
Andrew let out a long breath. After flying for so long, he was pretty worn out too.
"Shirley, are you going to run?"
In Shirley's eyes, this Capital Town felt very unfamiliar, yet it was also the place where she had lived for many years.
If Shirley wanted to escape, it would be very easy.
Hearing Andrew's words, Shirley froze for a moment.
Run?
It's true what they say, the closer you get to home, the more nervous you are. Before, she'd been hell-bent on coming back, but now she actually felt%
a little scared.
Is Alan Morgan doing okay?
How's Gerry Peary?
Where was she supposed to go to find the two of them?
She didn't know anything about the poison in her now.
"Let's find a hotel to crash at first."
Shirley didn't answer him, she just directly switched to a new topic.
