Chale Cheney stretched out his tiny hand towards her, a sweet smile on his little face.
Jasmine Yale was infected by his smile and reached out for his hand.
She kissed the back of his hand and said with a smile, "You should call me 'Jasy' first."
She had no intention of being Little Chale's mother, she simply liked him, liked him without any apparent reason.
The first time she met him, she felt a connection with this baby.
A connection woven from thousands of threads.
"As you wish," Sylvan Cheney said indifferently.
Chale Cheney equally seemed more accustomed to calling her "Jasy". He called out, "Jasy, let's go to the cinema, okay?"
"Okay, let's go to cinema."
"Jasy, hold me."
Little Chale wanted to jump out of Elder Cheney's arms.
"Little rascal," Sylvan Cheney gave his little buttocks a smack, showing his displeasure.
Jasmine Yale laughed and took him into her arms.
"Mr. Cheney, I will take Little Chale to see a movie, you can go and be busy."
