Meanwhile, in London.
It started to rain on Friday night, and by the evening of the next day, the rain had already frozen into thin icicles on the roof's edge.
The raindrops slapped on the glass window, smashing into Janice's heart, cold and without any warmth.
By the time all the food was served on the table, it was already pitch black outside.
She glanced at the clock, it was almost eight o'clock, and Noah hadn't come back yet, but her son had already been back for a long time, but he locked himself in the study for a long time.
Her own son refused to look at her, and the resentment in his eyes felt like razors cutting against her skin.
Janice took out her mobile phone, but the message sent to Noah today still did not receive a reply, nor did he answer the phone, and the indecisiveness in her heart was wavering.
She sighed, threw her phone on the table, and stood up to return to her room.
