In front of the teaching building.
Jeff Quinlan and Emilia Sullivan accompanied Ghania Quinlan into the campus and were now standing outside the examination point, holding Ghania's hand unwilling to let go.
"Ghania, don't be nervous, do well on the test, Mom believes you can pass," Emilia Sullivan said, clutching Ghania's hand tightly, reluctant to let go for a long time.
She kept telling Ghania not to be nervous, not realizing that her own palm was sweaty, her face color waxen and pale, with a thick layer of dark circles under her eyes—it was obvious she had spent a sleepless night worrying.
Ghania was annoyed by the sweaty touch but didn't show it, nodding her head to comfort her mother, "Mom, don't worry, I'm not nervous, I'll do well."
"Yes, that's right, don't be nervous, there's nothing to be nervous about, and if it really doesn't work out, there's still your uncle and the others, I'll go ask them for help."