Chapter 7 What Do You Think, Miss Reporter?
Betty was dumbfounded and unresponsive. Kerwin smiled at them and said, “Filson Magazine? Please have a seat.”
Betty was still in a trance. Sarah tugged at her and said, “Betty, what are you thinking about?”
Betty came to her senses and followed her colleagues to sit down on the couch.
Kerwin wheeled himself over before Sarah asked with excitement, “Mr. Martin, shall we start?”
“Yes, please.” Impassive as ever, Kerwin didn’t pay extra attention to Betty the entire time. He acted like they didn’t know each other.
His distant attitude made Betty wonder if this man and her husband just looked alike.
“Well… Mr. Martin, you’re always so mysterious. We don’t even know your name.” Her cheeks rosy, Sarah asked in an anxious voice, “Do you mind telling us?”
“Kerwin Martin.” An elegant name came out of his mouth and shattered Betty’s illusion.
Kerwin Martin.
He was indeed Kerwin.

Her newlywed husband.
“That’s a good name,” Jessica said with an ingratiating smile. “Next, we’re going to ask you a few questions.”
She turned to look at Betty and found the latter in a trance. Out of anxiety, she pinched Betty.
“Ouch,” Betty cried out in pain and snapped back to reality.
Betty had been appointed to do the interview today while Sarah and Jessica would take notes.
Met with Jessica’s reproachful gaze, Betty collected herself in a hurry and started to ask in a professional way, “Mr. Martin, may I ask if you’re a Chicago native?”
“Sort of.” Different from the flustered Betty, Kerwin remained calm. “Born in Chicago, I immigrated abroad when I was little.”
Betty listened and felt absurd. The one sitting across from her was her newly-wed husband, but she
knew nothing about him.
For the sake of her work, Betty sorted out her thoughts and asked the prepared questions one after
another,
The interview went well, Kerwin was impassive but cooperative. His lack of empathy as rumored
une noted filen

the interview today while Sarah and Jessica would take notes. Met with Jessica’s reproachful gaze, Betty collected herself in a hurry and started to ask in a professional way, “Mr. Martin, may

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