Seeing that Zachary Armstrong still hadn't spoken, Shirley Fisher gradually calmed down, holding her breath, patiently waiting for him.
Until one cigarette was completely smoked, Zachary Armstrong threw the cigarette butt at his feet, crushed it with his foot, the tip of his shoe exceeding the shoreline by half a foot, making people a bit alarmed.
Time passed by every minute and every second, Shirley Fisher originally thought that with so many people coming and going, perhaps someone would eventually step forward to help. As long as they held out until someone arrived, maybe there would be a turning point.
But clearly, she was wrong.
More than twenty minutes passed, both Shirley Fisher and the driver were completely stiff, yet around them, aside from Zachary Armstrong, there was still no one stepping forward to help.
