Lucy Ansley had lost all sense of time, feeling only the ache in her back and numbness in her legs, wondering resentfully when this meeting would finally end.
She couldn't hear what was being discussed inside, and in the past few minutes, Henry Ronan hadn't spoken either, only occasionally humming in response.
The muscles in Lucy Ansley's back were starting to feel paralyzed, and she wanted to reach out and give it a punch, but the man held her, making movement difficult.
Henry Ronan, on his part, had noticed something but didn't act rashly, simply waiting for her to relax on her own.
Fortunately, Lucy Ansley didn't keep him waiting long. After another half minute, her once straight back visibly softened as she curled bonelessly into the man's embrace.
The man then reached out to turn off the microphone, and as he lowered his gaze, his warm jaw rested against Lucy Ansley's forehead, "Tired?"
