Chapter 759

I forced myself to focus on productive matters, unwilling to engage in pointless conversation with Winston.

I didn't feel like talking, so I bent down to pick up the things from the ground and handed them to him. Quietly, I went to my easel, lifted the canvas draped over it, and sat down to gather my thoughts.

"Say, Ms. Luna, you look disheartened. You don't look too good. What happened?" Winston seemed to notice my unusual state of mind as he followed me back into the room. He stood beside me, watching me pick up my paintbrush, puzzled.

Perhaps everyone was accustomed to my carefree demeanor. So, my sudden dejection and exhaustion surprised him.

My hand, already holding the brush, paused momentarily.

When I left, I had only tidied my hair without washing my face. The telltale traces of traces must have been too obvious for Winston to miss.

Rubbing my face with my left hand, I firmly massaged my neck. I tried to appear more composed. "It's nothing. I'm just hungry," I replied