It is David Gibbs gives to me last time when I ask him for the address of Frances Louis.
I look at this name, like a drowning man grabbing a piece of driftwood.
Maybe only Frances Louis can help me now.
I have my pride, my self-esteem. But now, neither pride nor self-esteem can help me live in this city.
Shaking my hands, I dial the phone, the phone rings for a long time, and no one answers.
For me, even one minute and one second are very painful.
I am afraid that he doesn’t answer.
But I am also afraid that he picks up.
Finally, Frances Louis doesn’t pick up.
But I don’t have the courage to call him.
I stand in the cold wind. I think I might really have to sleep on the street tonight.
Dragging my suitcase, I walk slowly under the dim lamps.
After two minutes, my phone rings.
I am so nervous that my heart stops beating.
But different from what I think, it is not Frances Louis.
It is Steven Song.
“Hello? Jane Noyes?”
He is obviously drunk by the sound of his voice, and his tongue is knotted.
“What’s the matter, President Song?” I ask.
“You come to my house. I will send you the address.”
Then, Steven Song hangs up the phone.
I don't know what he asks me for, but I go there anyway.
First, he is the boss and I am the employee. Second, I really have nowhere to go. If Steven Song doesn’t call me, I might have to go to Frances Louis’s house.
I find Steven Song’s home according to the address he gives me.
It is a luxury apartment.
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