Lyra stopped looking for signal and put away her phone, walking over. The words "Uncle Wu" almost escaped her lips, but she quickly changed to, "Mr. Jackson?"
Morris Jackson had a laptop in front of him, the colorful stock graphics on the screen reflecting on the lenses of his glasses. Hearing her voice, he lifted his hand to adjust the glasses and turned to look at her.
"Awake now."
His expression was cold, and even without doing or saying anything, he exuded an aloofness that seemed to push people away.
Lyra was not used to it.
But this was enough proof that Morris Jackson was usually very good to her!
She approached and asked, "Mr. Jackson, where's my... um, Paul?"
Morris Jackson replied indifferently, "He left."
"He left? —No way, I'm still here, how could he leave me behind and go?"
Her face expressed astonishment, even doubting the meaning of life.
