In the afternoon, Amelia Clarke was busy in the sewing room, and Owen Moreland was watching TV outside. Halfway through, Amelia came out to use the bathroom and saw an impeccably serious old man on the financial channel. He was discussing complicated and incomprehensible data charts with a string of verbose and dry words. It was admirable that Owen could watch with such focus and seriousness.
The door to the sewing room wasn't closed, so occasionally, she could also hear the man's voice speaking on the phone.
At 5:30 in the evening, the two of them set out.
Mr. Clark was waiting downstairs, driving the black Cayenne.
The moment the black Cayenne left the residence's main gate, a silver sedan entered from the other lane, its window rolled down. In the fleeting moment, Amelia caught a glimpse of Finn Wilson's face in the corner of her eye. By the time she took a closer look, the cars had already passed each other.
