Sylvan Cheney knew her thoughts all too well. He looked down at her sitting in the chair, squinting slightly, "Understood."
"Then off you go, the sooner you leave, the sooner you'll return," Jasmine Yale reminded him.
She wasn't that petty.
Under the sunlight, the light in her eyes was especially clear, her long eyelashes fluttering like little fans.
Sylvan Cheney dressed himself and went downstairs to the garage.
Jasmine Tea House.
Joan Harry seemed to have arrived very early, sitting alone with her head lowered, staring at the black tea in her cup.
She wore a khaki coat, her long hair cascading over her shoulders, covering half of her face.
Her bowed head appeared serious, unmoving as she stared into the cup with no other expression, resembling a lifeless rag doll.
But Joan Harry was beautiful, and even in silence, her elegance couldn't be concealed.
Upon entering the tea house, Sylvan Cheney spotted her immediately.
