Stella was continuously rambling, on the verge of a breakdown, clutching the thick pile of photos in her hand so tightly they were nearly deformed. "Why didn't Alice come? Didn't she say she would attend tonight?"
"Is she really not coming? Then what do I do with these photos? So many people are waiting for me to bring Alice's signed photos back…"
"How did this happen, how will I explain this when I go back…"
"Stella…" Scarlett, who had been silently listening to her complaints, suddenly tugged at her wrist.
Her voice was faint and weak, like a mosquito buzz, as if it might be cut off at the next moment.
She widened her eyes in disbelief, "Stella, the woman beside Senior Brother Dales, is she Rosie?"
From the moment she started liking Henry Dales, Scarlett knew there would be no outcome between them.
Henry Dales could never like her.
He was a noble rich young master, and the woman who could stand by his side must be a wealthy lady from a suitable family.
