Two people squatted together, whispering behind everyone's back.
Sixth Hoffman couldn't make heads or tails of the accounts with his fingers.
All Nicholas could do was shake his head and let them be.
Just at that moment, Arnold Simmons had also stepped out.
He always dressed in the same long robe, his hair tied back, amiable and gentle, only when Hannah's name was mentioned did he show a bit more of a common man's touch.
"Hannah, is she okay?"
Nicholas had to soften his voice as he addressed Arnold Simmons, "Ahem, ahem, the word is that the boss and the others weren't injured."
They, not she.
Because Arnold Simmons wasn't the only one who had gone.
They all knew that, and naturally Arnold Simmons did as well.
Hard to define the feeling, it was just a sour and astringent tightness in the chest, dry eyes like wanting to cry, yet in the end they merely showed a smile, "As long as they're alright."
