"Senior, come sit over here. There's no sun shining here, and it's cooler." James Harold immediately got up and offered his seat.
Faye Lister was warmly surrounded by several people, her eyebrows slightly furrowed, clearly a bit unhappy.
She was an old-timer in the circle.
How could she not know that these younger generations were trying to please her?
Perhaps other seniors liked this kind of behavior, liking the younger generations to hold them up and treat them with respect.
But she didn't like it.
She was disgusted with this way of interacting.
To her, everyone in the car was equal, and she preferred that others treat her normally.
Faye Lister's gaze jumped over several people and fell on Joanna Lawrence, who was sitting in the last row, and on Porter Rushbrook, whose face was covered by a hat and seemed to have fallen asleep.
Joanna Lawrence met her gaze, nodded lightly, and called out, "Faye."
After greeting her, she didn't say anything or do anything else.
