Knock, knock, knock.
The knocking sound echoed.
After sending Otto away and hiding in the room, deep in thought on how to get back Chelina's biscuit box, Losa replied, "Come in, the door's not locked."
Furin walked into the room.
"What's up, little Furin?"
"Sir, isn't tomorrow the day?"
"What?"
Losa's face showed a trace of confusion: "What day are you talking about?"
"The day the newcomer arrives."
Furin stretched out her hand and placed the small tin box on the table: "Here you go—it's time to return it to its rightful owner."
"Not necessarily..."
"If she doesn't come, then it's mine again."
Furin let out a light hum and walked out: "I'm not the kind of person who shamelessly keeps someone else's stuff."
Losa smiled and reassured her: "Of course, our Furin is the most considerate of all."
Furin waved her hand, her face reserved yet unable to hide her delighted smile.
Her toes slightly pointed upward.
