Her heart felt like something heavy was pressing down on it, making it hard to breathe, even her breathing became labored.
It turned out that even someone like Curtis Prescott, who seemed sunny and respectable, could stand someone up.
The snow continued to fall, large flakes drifting from the gray sky.
Her down jacket was still in his car.
And she was only wearing a thin suit jacket.
Standing on the street in the biting cold wind, she looked especially frail.
In the weather of minus ten degrees, the cold wind cut across her face like a knife, making her shiver all over.
She stomped her feet, trying to dispel a bit of the chill.
When she took out her phone from her pocket, her fingers were so stiff that she could barely operate the screen.
She opened the ride-hailing app, her fingertips trembling on the screen, waiting for the system to match a vehicle.
At that moment, a low-key Rolls-Royce slowly stopped in front of her, the body as black as ink.
