Maeve Lane opened her slightly hazy eyes, her gaze still a bit unfocused.
For a moment, she didn't even know where she was.
The huge sense of disparity and emptiness slowly emerged, making her feel somewhat disoriented.
"Young mistress, why did you fall asleep here?" Mrs. Thompson picked up the fallen blanket and covered Maeve Lane, "Be careful not to catch a cold."
The familiar sofa, the familiar villa, and the familiar people.
This was Crestfall Bay, where she had lived for two years.
It turned out it was just a dream just now.
She dreamed of her university days, all the things from before, which now seemed so distant.
Maeve Lane closed her eyes, "It's fine, just lying here for a bit is enough."
"Sir, you're back!"
A voice came from outside, not too loud nor too soft, and Maeve Lane heard it, but did not react.
Julian Fairchild walked in, his deep gaze swept over Maeve Lane inch by inch as if it were tangible.
