Afterward, the series of retrospective actions that were even more difficult for Sumr Fairmont to accept were also talking about himself.
Sumr Fairmont didn’t have the habit of caring about other people’s affairs.
So after waking up, she let it go.
This ti was no different.
Waking up in the abandoned whiskey warehouse of the Brunschwig Distillery, Sumr Fairmont behaved as if she had never read the handwritten letter from Hieronymus.
As cold and expressionless as always.
It was just reading the beginning of a letter, then tossing it aside, how big of a deal could that be?
No one could tell from Sumr Fairmont’s face what she had been through the day before.
Lochindaal had an intense aura of human warmth.
Local folks often held small gatherings in the hotel’s restaurant and bar.
If you liked peace and a modern living environnt, this hotel would be highly unsuitable.
Dragging a big suitcase inside, heading to a guest room on the second floor, there wouldn’t even be an elevator or anyone to help.
This place was fit for those wanting the most authentic 19th-century whiskey town hotel feel, or simply like Sean Lowell, who sought human warmth.
The dining position where Sean Lowell sat had a window directly facing the bar, providing a clear view of those drinking at the bar, though people at the bar rarely looked into the restaurant.
It was still early, not ti for als or evening drinks, so there were hardly any people in the restaurant and bar.
The independent bottler had ordered two glasses of rare edition 1979 Macallen single malt whiskey from Speyside, Scotland Highlands, waiting for Sumr Fairmont.
Sean Lowell, sitting at the dining table eating oatal, imdiately saw Sumr Lowell walk straight to the bar and sit down next to an empty seat beside a tattooed blond muscular man, speaking sothing inaudible to Sean Lowell.
The wellness punk, Sumr Fairmont, seed adaptable, whether with Artie Vaughn or with a muscular man, there was no sense of inconsistency.
Sean Lowell had only taken two sips of his oatal before he sat in the restaurant like a statue, his spoon suspended in mid-air, neither putting it down nor moving along.
Because when Gordon Sterling arrived, barely settling his emotions, they were completely shattered at the sight of Sumr Fairmont.
The world claid The Jilted sought nothing, untouched by mortal matters, yet only Sean Lowell knew how much he yearned for and was infatuated with human warmth.
Sean Lowell couldn’t control himself, bursting with the impulse to go straight up and hug Sumr Lowell.
But how would he explain it?
How could he avoid causing a new crash scene?
Through a glass window, Sean Lowell’s eyes, like a fixed cara angle, stared motionlessly at Sumr Fairmont.
Sean Lowell kept his spoon suspended in mid-air, observing the entire process of Sumr Fairmont communicating with the independent bottler, entirely unaware of any impropriety regarding his hand’s position.
Perhaps Sean Lowell wished ti could freeze at this mont, allowing him to endlessly watch his sister.
Yet he feared ti truly freezing.
In his heart, that light, so fond of laughter, so warm, and with each word full of positive energy, seed to have forgotten even how to smile.
Regardless if the muscular tattooed man laughed heartily or gave her a thumbs-up, Sumr Lowell remained expressionless.
The "richness" of expression rivaled that of a robot.
Energy in this world is conserved; when you continuously stare at soone, a kind of energy may be transmitted through your gaze for the observed person to receive.
As Sumr Fairmont was leaving Lochindaal, she glanced toward the window’s direction.
She almost reached the door but turned back to raise her phone, took a photo of the place where she had just sat, and then turned around and left.
...............
"What the hell are you doing? Growing so big, yet can’t even drink porridge? Do you need yours truly to feed you?"
Gordon Sterling was always concerned about Sean Lowell, so he had to co down first to check: "A perfectly fine person, not like dusa is staring at you, how can you so easily turn into a statue?"
Gordo, with his superbly plump right hand, pressed Sean Lowell’s suspended hand into the oatal bowl.
"Gordon, I saw Sumr Lowell."
"You’re not feverish, why talk nonsense? Hurry up and drink the porridge."
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