Since she was calm and composed, unwilling to open her heart, whatever he did, indeed, was meaningless.
She was Flossie Wright, not the sort to be charmed or influenced by entanglement or kindness.
So, let it be. After all, he wasn't hoping for much either.
"Start the car."
Seeing Glenn Hutchinson sit back down, his cool side profile unchanged, it was hard to discern any other expressions.
Flossie Wright was a bit annoyed. She put on a duckbill cap, purposely pulling it down low to cover her brows and eyes.
She pursed her lips, still tasting the metallic flavor of blood inside her mouth.
Her lips were torn.
It hurt a bit.
She sighed, turned her head to look out the window, and slowly closed her eyes in the cool night breeze.
...
Glenn Hutchinson disappeared the next day.
He came and went without a trace, it couldn't have been a more fitting description.