After hanging up Lincoln Green's call, Abigail Green dialed 110.
Turning around, she saw Brandon Piers leaning against the carved wooden handrail, one hand in his pocket, looking at her with a faint smile.
Abigail was startled. Looking at the man with curled lips, she, a medical student always ruled by reason rather than emotion, couldn't help but imagine how this man, with long black hair and a white robe, would eclipse the spring scenery.
But it was just a fleeting thought. Reason resurfaced, and she became curious about how much of her call he had overheard.
"Does Mr. Piers like eavesdropping?" Abigail struck first.
"This is my home." Brandon Piers had no awareness of invading others' privacy, speaking with a composed tone and leisurely demeanor.
Abigail nodded. "True."
After speaking, she intended to leave, but Brandon Piers remained still. "Going to Sincere? Let me give you a ride."
His tone carried a trace of mischievous mockery.
