Hearing Lucy Summers' words, Sheryl Sawyer felt an uncontrollable sense of disappointment well up inside.
'If Lucy Summers isn't Sweetie, then where could Sweetie be...'
She pressed her lips together, suppressing the turbulent emotions in her chest, and said with feigned calm, "It's okay. I can accept whatever the result is."
"Okay." Lucy Summers nodded. "So, how can I help?"
Renee Jennings said softly, "We'll need a sample from you for the test. Hair with the follicle, or a used water glass, bowl, or chopsticks—something like that."
"Can I just pull out a couple of hairs, then?" Lucy Summers said, reaching up and plucking a few strands from her head.
She thought for a moment, then pulled a half-empty bottle of mineral water from her bag. "And this? Will this work?"
Renee Jennings: "Yes."
Before parting ways, Renee Jennings and Sheryl Sawyer both added Lucy Summers on WeChat.
They took the five o'clock evening flight back to Zenvia.
