So, Master Lewis, who is usually very particular about his food, clothes, and accommodations, sat on the foam floor mats that the children had laid out for him on the terrace that day. Leaning against the wall with a pillow behind him, he placed his laptop on his lap and typed away.
By his ears, the laughter and banter of the children playing games, and the scent of food wafting from the kitchen through his nose.
Occasionally, Richelle would come over to add some hot tea to his cup or bring him some snacks. He would raise his head, smile at her, and then softly say thank you.
Everything seemed so ordinary, yet comforting and enjoyable, making one want to continue this life forever.
Neither he nor Richelle mentioned the elevator incident from the previous day, and everything seemed to be back to normal.
But something seemed to be different.
...
In the evening, Richelle received a call from Mr. Chairman Chapman.
