”I’ll pick you up. Give me your address. I’ll be over in a minute,” Ethan said.
Half an hour later, Ethan's car arrived outside the gates of the Tremont Estate. Arianne wrapped her coat tightly around herself and quickly ducked into the car.
The late night temperature was freezing.
The security guard on night shift at the gate noticed that Arianne had entered a car that was not Mark’s and prudently wrote down the car plate number.
Arianne wasn’t in the mood to venture too far off, so she told Ethan to stop at the intersection. “Let’s talk in the car. It’s really, really late.”
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