He pulled out a cigarette and was about to light it when he turned to Amanda and asked, "Amanda, I'm going to smoke a cigarette, you don't mind, do you?"
Under the dim and bleak lighting of the corridor, his complexion looked exceedingly pale; this man who had always seemed so capable in Amanda's memory was showing signs of weariness for the first time in front of her.
The light fell between the strands of his hair, and she could even spot some fine white hairs on top. Unbeknownst to her, wrinkles had also accumulated at the corners of his eyes.
Amanda felt somewhat bewildered, 'Has time really passed by that fast…'
"I don't mind."
She shook her head and walked over to sit beside Donald Johnson, "Mr. Johnson, what did you want to see me about?"
"Mr. Johnson…" Donald Johnson lit his cigarette, and underneath the pale blue smoke, his smile carried a hint of self-mockery, "Amanda, I remember, a long time ago, you used to call me Dad."
