Dragging the box, Shirley Fisher turned away immediately, not wanting to look at him even once.
Zachary Armstrong rolled up the car window again, not forcing her, just a cold smile curling at the corner of his mouth.
Shirley Fisher hailed another taxi, and once she was settled in the car, she breathed a sigh of relief; luckily, that weirdo didn't follow, or she really wouldn't know what to do.
"Where to?"
"To the airport, T3 Terminal."
The car gradually started moving, and only then did Shirley Fisher's tense nerves begin to relax, her whole body leaning back against the backrest, her eyes dropping as she pretended to nap.
But barely five minutes had passed when the driver beside her couldn't help but speak: "Miss, isn't the person in the off-road vehicle behind your friend? He seems to be following us."
Shirley Fisher's eyes suddenly opened, her body sitting upright in an instant, her face darkening as she looked behind through the rearview mirror.
