Isabelle came with Old Mr. Bailey, and the two of them were standing together as Isabelle stared solemnly at the pictures on the screen with a faintly anguished expression on her face. Even though Sophia had looked at her for a long time before retracting her gaze, John didn’t see Isabelle, his attention focused on the host.
The host droned on and on in explaining the pictures before talking about the theme for the night—a charity dinner of sorts to help the children in remote mountainous areas to leave the mountains and see the world outside.
Sophia was rather moved, but she just worried to channel help through such charity organizations. The host’s voice and expression are flat as he talks about these pictures, not even a hint of emotional resonance to be found. So, how can he possibly put himself in these children’s shoes and consider their needs? She exhaled heavily, a touch distressed. I wonder how much of the money donated will actually be used to help them. These companies have made the middlemen who are taking advantage robust and prosperous instead.
After the host had finished speaking, applause and discussions reigned below the stage. Many people lamented that these children were pitiful, thus they deserved help, but no one knew whether they were truly speaking from the heart or merely putting on a show. At this time, Sophia shifted a fraction. Tilting his head, John looked at her. “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?”
Sophia hissed. “No, my shoes are just pinching the heel a bit.”
John looked down at her feet, but he couldn’t see her shoes since the evening gown was too long. Well, news shoes normally do pinch the heel. After pondering for a moment, John suggested, “How about I take you to the second floor to sit for a while.”
Sophia hurriedly nodded. “Sure, sure.” Anyway, I really don’t feel like being a spectator to this hypocritical scene anymore.
John then took her arm, and they both went up to the second floor. At present, there was also quite a crowd on the second floor that was about the same size as the first floor. The only difference was the presence of plenty of small rooms furnished with a sofa and coffee table on the second floor, probably for the use of those who bumped into a prospective collaboration partner during a banquet so that they could discuss the details right then and there.
Leading Sophia to a room, John closed the door behind them. Sophia then plopped onto the sofa and slipped off her shoes. The pinching was indeed rather severe, for her heel was now abraded. Men might not understand this feeling, but shoes pinching the heel was truly an unpleasant feeling. While it wasn’t fatal, the pain was fairly unbearable. John came over and took a look. “Does this need to be bandaged?”
Sophia chortled. “Such a paltry wound doesn’t require a bandage.” She stared at her foot for a long while before suggesting tentatively, “Why don’t you get me a Band-Aid?”
Having never known that a Band-Aid could be used for this purpose, John was taken aback, but he then nodded. “Okay. Wait for me here.”
When he’d left, Sophia slipped off her shoes and placed them aside. This evening gown was too form-fitting that she couldn’t even cross her legs, so she merely sat on the sofa and swung her legs. After waiting for a long time, however, John still hadn’t returned. Logically speaking, the hotel should have Band-Aids, so he wouldn’t have to go out and buy one. She then waited for a while longer, unable to call him since her cell phone wasn’t with her. Meanwhile, there were constant strains of conversations as people came and went outside, making her somewhat anxious. As she waited and waited, her patience slowly dissipated.
In the end, she slipped on her shoes and went out in search of him. When she went downstairs from the second floor, she saw that the host had already finished speaking on the first floor, and everyone had dispersed. The situation now was just as it was earlier, everyone making small talk among themselves. She circled the lobby on the first floor in search of him, but to no avail.
At her wits’ end, she finally stopped a server and asked him whether he had a Band-Aid. The server promptly nodded and took one out of his pocket right away. Glancing at it, Sophia asked, “Do all of you carry this at all times?”
The server smiled. “Yes, we all have it at hand.”
Sophia nodded. So, John probably isn’t delayed because he can’t find a Band-Aid. Holding the Band-Aid, she walked toward the backyard. She’d just reached the edge of the lawn when she spotted John. However, he wasn’t alone; Isabelle was standing beside him.
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