Millie was escorted out in broad daylight, panic written all over her face. Her first thought was whether her escapades abroad had been unearthed.

Yet, facing the shocked and questioning gazes around her, she managed a smile and said with composure, "Must be some mix-up, I guess? I'll go see what's up." Her three roommates exchanged bewildered looks, ultimately watching helplessly as she was led away.

"What's going on? I'm freaking out here..."

"Something's not right, huh?"

"What do we do now? Should we call her folks?"

"Do you have her parents' number?"

The roommate shook her head.

Then, it hit her. There was this time when Murray had dropped Millie off at the dorm, and he'd handed them his business card, which should have his number.

With that thought, she dashed back to the dorm, rummaged for the card, and dialed the number.

meeting and was about to leave work when his personal phone

and only a select few had this number. Despite not recognizing the caller ID, he

worried something's up, can you check on her at the station?" Murray frowned,

jacket and headed downstairs where his driver had the car door open. Slipping into the backseat, he instructed, "To the police station, please." Why would the cops

had to be a

assistant's contact: "Millie's

...

station, it turned out just as the veteran cop predicted: the incident happened abroad, and pursuing it was practically impossible. They could only

she heard she could leave.

Leaning against it was a tall figure, phone in hand idly flipping it. If

you came

joy froze under his icy stare, her smile awkwardly hanging, making her look like a clown. Murray straightened

fear evident. "Babe, it's not what you think, let me explain-" Murray coldly withdrew his hand, his eyes filled with scorn:

assistant had called just

Listening. to in the car, he

details in the car, he

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