"Elliot," she heard the voice of Jerome Wells behind her which made her turn to see the man whose eyes moved from his brother to her, giving her a warm smile. He wore a dark blue suit, his black wavy hair holding the same texture as his brother except for the hair color.
"Good evening, Vivian," his gaze had always been kind not because it was her but to everyone around him. Since Mr. Carmichael's death, Jerome hadn't visited the Carmichael's mansion as often he did in the past. The housework which was given was a summer house that had been work in progress and had now been paused.
"Good evening, Jerome," she greeted him and the man greeted everyone around being his polite self.
