Arnold Simmons found it amusing and called out in a deep voice, "It's me."
The person inside the room seemed stunned for two seconds, and then the door was pulled open.
The girl was still in her theatrical costume, her little face was particularly flushed, and her eyes were also reddened. The whole person looked somewhat pitiful, as if she had just cried.
Her voice was soft like water, "Mr. Simmons."
After she said this, she couldn't help but let out a small sob, and the tears she had been trying to hold back welled up in her eyes again, hanging on the verge of falling.
Arnold Simmons sighed inwardly, gently flicked away her tears from the corner of her eyes, "Why are you crying?"
Hannah turned her body sideways, clumsily wiped her face with both hands, then turned back, her soft voice raspy, "I did not cry."
Arnold Simmons stepped forward, half embracing her in his arms, and closed the door behind him.
With the door closed, the room fell into silence again.
