Tracy gave a cold smile and quickened her steps into the elevator.
Back at the apartment, she didn't sleep all night, sitting on the couch in the living room.
The man didn't come back until five in the morning. When he saw her on the couch, he merely glanced at her, said nothing, and went upstairs to change clothes.
Coming downstairs, Tracy was still sitting there, having not slept all night, and her recent sleep had been poor, making her look somewhat haggard, with faint dark circles under her eyes, like a fragile porcelain doll, pale and weak.
Lorraine Hanson paused at the top of the stairs, with two steps still to go, just looking at her.
Tracy seemed to react only then, slowly raising her head to meet the man's deep eyes, her nose instantly tingling.
"Do you... have nothing to say to me?" As soon as she spoke, it was the same question, Tracy's face was not only pale but also faintly yellowish, her complexion very poor.
