The key is her spare key, “How do you know.”
“you said before.”
She forgot to mention it, but it didn’t matter. Grace Ye twisted the keys a few steps earlier and threw them into the white porcelain bottle on the shoe cabinet. She often forgot to bring the key and put a spare in the dark compartment at the door.
She glanced at her home, bedroom, kitchen, living room, which was not like her own home…
The magazine in Ethan Luo’s hand turned a page, “No need to read it, I asked someone to clean it up.”
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