Chapter 118 Burning Your Own Future

• By the time Henrik Jansson finished his shower and crawled into bed, it was past midnight.
• He saw Ingrid Svenson propped against the headboard, thumbs flying over her phone, and asked, “Who’ve you been chatting with so happily?”
• He’d just heard a string of notification chimes from opening cash gifts. Someone was clearly waiting for the clock to hit midnight to wish Ingrid happy birthday and had sent a bunch of red envelopes.