Maeve Lane took off her helmet, the cold wind lifting her hair, stunningly beautiful and carefree. "Alright, you go up and rest first. I've booked a room for you. I'll play for a while longer before going up to rest."
Henry Hughes noticed Maeve's fondness for motorcycles and didn't want to dampen her mood, so he said, "Alright, be safe. I'll head up first."
"Mm, ask the front desk for the room card."
"Okay."
Henry asked the front desk for a key and handed his sweat-drenched clothes to the staff responsible for laundry, "Thank you."
She nodded, "No problem, enjoy your stay, Mr. Hughes."
He smiled, took the room card, and headed to the elevator.
The elevator faced the lounge area, outside was a purely black sky, occasionally swept by a gust of cold wind.
The moment the elevator doors closed, a silhouette remarkably similar to Julian Fairchild flashed before his eyes.
Henry didn't get a chance to see clearly before the elevator doors shut.
He diverted his gaze.
