Chapter 339

A bench under the street light, Charles Taylor sitting in the center, head hanging low, a few cigarette butts scattered around his feet, the whole person is quiet as if out of the world.

"......Charles , what brings you here? Where is your car? Why didn't you answer your phone earlier?"

Knowing that he was in a bad mood, Emma Rosy no longer treated him in a polite manner, but like a friend. But the response was a cold detachment that she had never seen from Charles Taylor before.

"I almost had a car accident last night when I was drunk, my phone ran out of battery, and I just went to the supermarket to flush for a while." He lifted his chin across the street, his eyelids still drooping, seemingly without any desire to communicate.

Emma Rosy, alarmed and worried, looked at him from head to toe, found no obvious injuries, then slightly relieved: "Went to the hospital?"

"Well, no injuries." Again, the answer was simple to the extreme.