He had little interest in Yukon Carbon, and besides, they hadn't met for a long time. Although he couldn't guess Yukon's purpose for coming over, he quickly closed his eyes, too lazy to open them again.
Yukon Carbon stood outside the door, staring at Sylvan Cheney for a long time.
It was very different from what he imagined. In just a few months, a man once full of spirit had become so desolate; even the sharpness on his face had vanished, leaving only serenity and thinness.
As the officer outside said, he seemed to have no interest in a reduced sentence, as if he had already adapted to life in the precinct.
Yukon remained silent, not moving, so Sylvan Cheney said indifferently, "What are you here for."
His attitude was very cold, but Yukon wasn't surprised.
Between them, they were never really friends.
"What do you think I'm here for," Yukon retorted.
