Glenn Hutchinson responded in a light tone.
"Oh," Flossie Wright looked up and said relaxedly, "Let's go then."
"No rush."
Hutchinson raised his hand and wrapped it around her shoulder,
drawing her, who was about to turn and leave, directly to his side.
However, in front of so many people, he did not act overly intimate.
"What is it?"
Flossie asked knowingly.
"Explain this to me," Hutchinson said as he steered Flossie in the direction of the crowd on the drill ground, "what's going on here?"
"They're playing," Flossie said casually, shirking all responsibility, "It has nothing to do with me."
"Is that so?"
Hutchinson narrowed his eyes, his gaze fixed tightly on Flossie.
Flossie spread her hands.
If Hutchinson had arrived ten minutes earlier, Flossie really wouldn't have had any room for excuses, but now, none of this had anything to do with her anymore, and Hutchinson would have difficulty pursuing the matter.
Furthermore—
she hadn't done anything wrong.
