When the sound of chaos and footsteps began, Lucas Walker's car was already started, heading out of the hospital.
Not far from the ground, Anya Smith was lying face down, her face having been battered beyond recognition. She had died on the spot.
Lucas Walker sat in the car, not even turning his head towards the spot where Anya Smith lay.
As for the minor matter of final arrangements, there was simply no need for him to worry about.
A psychiatric patient who had jumped to her death—it was, after all, quite ordinary.
The aged butler's face was calm, too, while the assistant sitting opposite him had already received a phone call.
After ending the call, the assistant looked at Lucas Walker, "Mr. Walker, just received news from Miss Ivana's tutor, she made a call an hour ago to take leave, said that an uncle of hers was ill, and she would need some time off."
"Which uncle?" Lucas Walker asked.
"The tutor said she does not know," the assistant replied.
