Jasmine Yale was waiting for him to speak, but after a few seconds, all she got were the sounds of retreating footfalls.
Disappointment filled Jasmine Yale's large eyes...
Perhaps, he wasn't Sylvan Cheney, she had mistaken him for someone else.
Sylvan Cheney had died, died in Lonton, how could it be him.
Jasmine Yale's heart was still wildly pounding in a confusing rhythm, her palm felt burning hot.
Just like these days, waking up countless times from her sleep, only to find her body soaked in cold sweat.
Feeling weak, she closed her eyes, her long eyelashes slightly drooped.
In the darkness, her figure projected solitude and melancholy.
...
Nine-thirty in the evening.
Joe Heath brought Chale Cheney to her house.
The two of them had a great time, Chale Cheney chatted away carelessly with Joe Heath.
"Uncle Joe, remember our agreement to teach me how to swim, you can't go back on your word."
"Uncle Joe, you have to make sure Ali is well-fed, he's quite picky."
