The voice struck Fristy Davis like a lightning bolt. She was already extremely shocked to see Gemma York suddenly open his eyes, but the voice that followed left her even more horrified.
——Dylan Young!
How… how could he be here?
Fristy Davis's hand holding the syringe began to tremble, and the sharp Pillow scratched some of Gemma York's skin as she shook.
A storm was raging in her heart; her body hair stood up instantly, and a layer of cold sweat broke out on her back the moment Dylan Young's voice sounded. She knew she had failed; today might be her end, but she didn't have time to consider anything else. She didn't want to die; she needed to stay calm.
Fristy Davis straightened up, turned her rigid body, and tried to ask in a calm voice, "Excuse me, is this gentleman calling me?"
Of course, she intentionally altered her voice, making it sound somewhat hoarse.
She knew this might not fool Dylan Young at all, but she wanted to try, just as a final desperate struggle.
