I didn't expect to be outwitted in my old age.
Sylvan Cheney didn't say much, he was all too clear about Spencer Childe's tactics.
If Chris Fern survives, he might be spared from capital punishment, but not from his guilt.
Spencer Childe sighed deeply over the phone.
Sylvan Cheney's deep, thoughtful eyes looked out the window; outside, the sky was filled with a gloomy atmosphere, dense dark clouds gathered, and the north wind howled.
It seemed like it was going to rain.
"The weather's cold, Grandpa, take care of your health." Sylvan Cheney casually advised.
Despite some thaw in their relationship, he and Spencer Childe simply couldn't get any closer emotionally.
"I know, I'll go pay your mother a visit this afternoon." Spencer Childe's voice was steeped in a profound melancholy, "I haven't visited her much all these years. She must be really lonely by herself."
"It's been so many years since that happened, don't overthink."
