From the driver's seat, Nathan Johnson, who was driving, saw through the rearview mirror Ose Owen's slightly darkened expression, frowned, and inquired.
Ose Owen said nothing for a long time, then looked up from his phone and glanced at the front seat: "It's nothing, keep driving."
"Yes." Nathan Johnson asked no more questions, focusing intently on driving.
The car interior was silent. Ose Owen furrowed his brow, staring out the window. The setting sun painted the sky in a vibrant crimson, like blood, dazzlingly brilliant.
Twenty minutes later, a convoy of three cars arrived at the Villa House, where Crossley Gibson was standing at the Villa Gate Entrance holding little Raleigh's hand.
The woman wore a white sleeveless silk long dress, bohemian in style, flowing gracefully. Bathed in the setting sun, she resembled an ethereal fairy who had wandered into the mortal world.
