anwhile, Ghania Quinlan was preparing to leave.
She had arrived in McKinney at four in the morning the previous night. Since it was too late to return ho, she stayed at a hotel with Myles Sullivan.
At noon, Olivia Barness and Sylvia Cadwell found out she had co back from Beijing and called her to say the class was hosting a welco ho and a celebration party for her.
They asked her to return to No. 1 Middle School.
A few days earlier, she might not have wanted to go.
After all, she had lived in Beijing for a month, following Myles Sullivan and Ivy Wilmar around the Sullivan Family, witnessing the splendor of the upper echelons. Now looking back at the people she knew in McKinney, she couldn’t help but feel a bit disdainful.
But her mood had been good these last couple of days.
Futhermore, when she transferred from No. 1 Middle School, her departure had been so abrupt and shaful. Now that she had successfully gotten into Tsinghua University, and her forr classmates wanted to celebrate her achievent, Ghania had so face to save, so she agreed, albeit reluctantly.
Since she was going to attend, she wanted to be well-dressed, which took ti. So by the ti she was ready to leave, after receiving Olivia’s call at noon, it was almost five in the afternoon.
Ghania didn’t care much about the ti. She took her things, closed the door behind her, and imdiately ran into Myles Sullivan in the living room, talking with a man.
"Myles, what exactly is going on with Nathalie Quinlan? I asked Ivy, and she said you’re more familiar with Nathalie. Do you know her background..."
Juan Wilmar’s words were cut short as he caught sight of Ghania stepping out from the corner of his eye. He stopped abruptly and asked with caution,
"Who is this?"
Myles Sullivan turned around and saw Ghania standing there, slender and poised. He rubbed his face, which had been sleepless the whole night, and with a heavy gaze, looked at her and called out, "Ghania, co here."
Then he turned to Juan Wilmar and introduced her, "This is my niece, Ghania Quinlan. She stayed at my house for a while when she went to Tsinghua for the joint examination. She got in, see? Her mom called her back for a promotion party, so I brought her back with . Her flight arrived late last night; it was not safe for her to go back alone, so she’s temporarily staying with at the hotel."
Myles Sullivan was affluent and generous; the hotel he stayed in featured a five-star luxury apartnt. It had a reception area, spanned two stories, and had four bedrooms in addition to a fully equipped kitchen.
Ghania stayed on the upper floor.
She now obediently approached and stood in front of the two n.
Myles Sullivan was annoyed about sothing and introduced the man briefly to Ghania, "This is your aunt’s cousin, you can just call him Uncle Wilmar."
Ghania, always perceptive, imdiately greeted him with respect, "Hello, Uncle Wilmar."
"Hello," Juan Wilmar responded curtly, barely glancing at her once before turning his attention away, obviously not interested.
He hadn’t slept all night because Mr. Yapiter’s pickup was late. He wanted to ask around for so information but had to restrain his impatience until dawn.
As soon as day broke, he made countless phone calls to the neighboring city, searched through everyone he could think of, only to find that he still had no clue about the relationship between Nathalie Quinlan and Owen Yapiter.
He felt like he was sitting on burning coals, ready to be consud at any mont. The last thing he had the patience to deal with was a Sullivan family relative. Had it not been for Myles ntioning Ghania’s acceptance into Tsinghua University, he would not have even bothered acknowledging such a minor character.
Ghania could see their perfunctory attitudes. Her eyes flickering, she gripped the strap of her bag and said understandingly, "Uncle, my classmates have invited back to the school for a visit, so I won’t disturb you and Uncle Wilmar any longer. I’ll be leaving now."
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