Back in the day, when his vision failed him, and she lost her voice, they communicated through a unique chat ID. The phone was designed for the visually impaired, with every message being read out loud. And through this number, he only contacted with No. 11. He never used it to contact anyone else.
Ian stared at the message on his phone, lost in thought.
[No. 99, can you see me? I’m waving at you.]
So, this girl in front of him was the No. 11 he had been searching for. Ian looked in her direction again, and the girl gestured in sign language. [No. 99, long time no see.]
At this, Ian’s gaze faltered. That was the only piece of sign language No. 11 had taught him.
She had said, if they ever met outside again, they would use this to reach out to each other.
Seeing this, he’d recognize it was her.
Ian stood rooted to the spot. His dark eyes fixed on the girl by the window. All the clues indeed pointed to what only he and No. 11 would know. He shouldn’t doubt who she was anymore.
However, the timing of this girl’s appearance made him question everything. He had just had a fallout with Clara, and then No. 11 suddenly showed up.
Was it a coincidence, or someone’s deliberate arrangement? If it was orchestrated, then who was this girl? And where was the real No. 11?
With these thoughts, Ian nodded slightly at the girl, then walked into the café.
Joy that she couldn’t hide spread across the girl’s face. “No. 99, how are you?” Her voice was soft and enchanting, intoxicating to listen to.
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