Hannah had a quiet time recently. Louis was too busy filming to take notice of her, and George River, naturally engrossed in his affectionate and soft life, was unlikely to reach out.
So the happiest thing for Hannah right now was chatting with her own financier each day.
Although her financier was quite cold, she enjoyed it nonetheless.
— Mr. Simmons, do you think my cactus is pretty?
—Every day I tell it nice things, just as they say on the internet.
—It's going to bloom soon!
A half-hour later, a reply comes in from the other side.
—Spend less time on the internet, or your brain will decay.
The smile on Hannah's face froze, but she soon recovered, and her fingers were typing away a new message.
—If it decays, you'll have to take care of me.
Two minutes later, the reply arrived.
—Read more during the day, sleep less, and you'll have fewer dreams.
Hannah was fuming, wishing she could crawl through the wires right now.
I'm done.
Cannot chat anymore!
