Jiang Ruolan frowned as she looked at the pictures on the computer screen, "Is this the scene on Bedford Street? When did this happen?"
"One hour ago." Xian Zihao's expression was cold and he looked exhausted. His tall body was propped up on a chair.
"Had they sent the victim to the hospital? Are they safe? All are still alive?"
Xian Zihao observed an edgy look in Jiang Ruolan's eyes until she shifted her gaze from him to the photo on the screen. Then, her lips moved slightly, "A seventy-year-old man crashing into a forklift to save his wife and cat, and died on the spot. His wife had a heart attack and was immediately sent to the hospital, where she was also pronounced dead."
"This is too much!" Jiang Ruolan took out her cell phone and was about to make a call when Xian Zihao stopped her. "What are you going to do?"
