Fiona Schmidt hugged her friend, Nora Hanson's body was limp.
It didn't seem like just being drunk, more like being drugged.
"You want to assault her?!" Fiona glared at the man, supporting her friend and taking a few steps back. She wasn't someone who would easily give up and pulled out her phone to call the police.
When she pressed the first number, the man in black moved a bit, turned sideways and slightly straightened up, but his right shoulder still leaned against the compartment door.
"Hmph." He scoffed, his gloomy voice magnetic and hoarse, carrying a heavy nasal sound, like someone who was sick.
Fiona's finger froze on the screen, she looked up at the man, hearing the amusement in his words.
Laugh? Laugh at what? Laugh at her calling the police? Underestimating herself?!
For some reason, she could sense that the man's laughter meant just that, and her brows furrowed even tighter as her finger pressed the second number.
