Upon seeing Morris, Lyra tightly grabs Gregory's arm, using a lot of force.
Gregory furrows his brows but covers Lyra's hand with his, gently patting it a few times to comfort her. Lyra's hand slowly loosens. At this moment, her palms are already sweating, and she gazes at the man walking in, slightly dazed.
As Morris walks in, Gregory courteously reaches out to him: "Mr. Morris, it's an honor."
"You're too kind."
Morris lightly shakes Gregory's hand, withdraws, and sits down with a nonchalant expression.
Everyone sits, except Lyra, who stands out like a crane among chickens.
She still looks a bit dazed.
She had been able to endure for the past two days, but for some reason today, she is desperate to see him. She doesn't want to feel wronged, so she runs to see him. Despite many twists and turns along the way, she finally meets him.
He still wears the same, familiar suit - refined, composed, and restrained.
