From her small purse, Emma pulled out a cigarette and a lighter. The tip of the cigarette glowed in the darkness as she flicked the lighter. She took a deep drag, then exhaled a plume of hazy smoke. The smoke drifted with the wind, rising high before dissipating, much like her mood at this moment—lost and directionless.
Emma silently leaned against the wall, her eyes fixed on the stream of people passing by the hotel. The elegant outfits, the radiant and smiling faces... but it was all just a facade. These people were no different from her, merely wearing masks to hide their schemes and inner calculations.