"I reek of alcohol; I definitely can't go back to the Ross Family now, otherwise my old man would break my legs..."
Hearing Adam Ross's words, Justin Battleson, who had been closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, stood up at this moment and walked towards the door.
"I really did drink a bit too much..."
Justin muttered softly, planning to go to the end of the corridor to find a place to get some air, hoping to sober up.
This time Justin did indeed drink fiercely, but now, every time he closed his eyes, all he could think of was the way Charlotte Thompson looked at him.
The light that flickered in her eyes seemed to be slowly fading.
"You don't believe me?"
Her words were so light they seemed like a feather, which could disappear without a trace with just a little effort.
How could he not believe her.
Yet, he couldn't find any information about the person who sent him those pictures.
Two photographs, both sent to him by an anonymous email.
