Several cars sped along the road.
Purple Summers sat in the car, the whole time clutching her hands tightly, lips pursed, her expression going still as a statue in the light streaking past the car window.
When they returned to the villa, the entire building was brightly lit, and the police car lights outside the courtyard were glaring and blinding.
Purple's grip tightened on her fingers, and as soon as the car stopped, the bodyguard opened the door for her. She stepped out of the car and hurried into the house without saying a word.
The sounds around her ears seemed to be muffled by layers of fog.
"That woman is extraordinarily skilled, as if she's been trained from a young age as an assassin."
"…Drug dealers along the border often pick up orphans to turn them into murder machines, working for drug lords."
"If we hadn't diverted our men, she might not have been able to break in…"
