On the return journey, Lucy Ansley and Henry Ronan sat at opposite ends of the compartment.
Streetlights flashed past the window, casting a half-bright, half-dark yellow glow on their faces.
Driven by curiosity, Thomas Chapman occasionally stole glances at the rearview mirror.
Ever since getting in the car, Mr. Ronan had been resting with his eyes closed, and it was unclear how much he had drunk, but the signs of inebriation were evident in his expression.
As for Lucy, she obediently sat in her seat, hugging a paper bag, and occasionally leaned down to take a sniff.
Everything seemed normal between them, but Thomas felt an oppressive atmosphere.
Could it be that they had a fight?
Thomas speculated all the way until a faint scent of alcohol drifted into the air.
Taking advantage of the pause at a red light, he lowered his voice and asked suspiciously, "Lucy, what are you drinking?"
Lucy shook her takeaway cup and whispered, "Nomad."
