Trenton Smith sat in his office chair, motionless for a long time.
After a while, he slowly reached out his hand, his fingertips carefully landing on the woman's face on the screen.
With a single touch of the screen, it was as if he had reached out to his long-lost lover.
To him, Sherry White was a beautiful dream.
A fragile dream, yet it was the only happiness he had ever experienced in his life.
Trenton withdrew his gaze, leaned back, his eyes deep and melancholic, his expression stern and cold. He slowly lit a cigarette and took a light drag, letting the pungent taste fill his mouth.
*
Night.
Hillside villa.
Norris Moore had finished dinner, and Trenton Smith had not yet returned.
She sat on the sofa watching TV, realizing it was already nine o'clock in the evening. She thought to herself that the man probably wouldn't return tonight.
Finally able to catch her breath, Norris felt relieved.
