That name caused the fleeting pain in Julian Sterling's head to resurface. It only appeared for a split second, but that throbbing sensation still made Julian's face pale a few shades. His tightly clenched hands seeped a thin layer of sweat.
But thinking of the man who had yet to fully calm down, Julian could only purse his lips and try to endure it. Fortunately, he was sitting in Ethan Caldwell's lap, so the man could not see his tightly pressed lips.
At this moment, Ethan did not notice Julian's anomaly at all. The man's gaze remained firmly nailed to the name Professor Edmund Hale on the screen.
The second hand of the wall clock kept ticking rhythmically. Surprisingly, they had been sitting here until two in the morning.
The atmosphere in the study maintained that heavy, suffocating silence. The surroundings were pitch black, the curtains drawn tight, without a single ray of light filtering in from the outside. The sole light source at this moment was that laptop screen.
