Summer Thorne looked over Timothy York's shoulder at Felix York behind him.
The man still wore a gentle smile, his posture lazy and relaxed. The moment her gaze met his, the smile on his lips widened, but the mirth never reached the eyes behind his glasses.
'A man like that is utterly chilling.'
In the end, Summer Thorne spoke up. "No matter how long you plan to interrogate me, my answer will be the same. I don't know and have never met the Miss Jacobs they mentioned, and I have no idea why that pen was in my bag."
Hearing this, Felix York arched an eyebrow. "Is that so?"
Summer Thorne met his gaze directly, her reply frank and fearless. "It is."
Felix York held her gaze for a few seconds before letting out a soft laugh. He turned to the men behind him. "In that case, take this young lady away and let her think it over. We can talk again when she comes up with a different answer."
