The soundproofing of the wooden door wasn't very good, and soon a hoarse woman's voice came through clearly.
Upon hearing this, Sheryl Barker pushed the door open, guiding Greg Jensen inside with his head bowed low.
Upon entering, Greg Jensen was somewhat shocked, for the space behind the wooden door was much larger than the hollows outside.
A space of nearly ten square meters boasted a bed and a tea table, and it was piled high with ancient books. Although it was a hollowed-out space, it looked relatively clean and tidy overall.
Turning his head, he saw an elderly black woman with white hair and a withered face, at least seventy years old, sitting cross-legged with her eyes half-closed, her face was full of loose, sagging wrinkles, and she had a somewhat peculiar appearance.
"Please have a seat, both of you!"
The old woman, Melinda Melrose, stretched out her hand indicating for them to sit down.
Of course, they did not have chairs, so they sat on the ground.
