"Hello."
"Miss Yale, your package has arrived; it's downstairs" - a man's voice.
"A package?" Miss Yale seemed puzzled.
She hadn't bought anything recently, who sent it to her?
After hanging up, she quickly put on her flats and rushed downstairs.
Today was Saturday; the residential area was packed. It was half-past five in the evening, and it was not dark yet.
Once she went downstairs, surely there was a courier waiting.
"Are you Miss Yale? This is your delivery." The man handed her the package.
Jasmine Yale was curious. The package wasn't heavy or light but rather an ordinary weight, what could be inside?
She shook it but couldn't guess either.
"Jasmine, I'm sorry. That bastard Lincoln Lamar just called me, he wants me at the shooting site!"
Just as Jasmine was about to go upstairs, Peyenne Jones hurriedly came down, her bag on her back.
"Hey, aren't you having dinner?"
"No! I'm leaving! Call me if you miss me!"
