Spencer Childe stared at Chale Cheney for a long time.
Perhaps it was Spencer Childe's stern face that made Chale Cheney feel frightened deep down.
He didn't dare to speak.
"Let's eat," Spencer Childe finally broke the silence.
"Daddy..." Chale Cheney tugged at the corner of Sylvan Cheney's shirt, looking pleadingly at him.
"Hmm, sit next to me," Sylvan Cheney replied.
Only then did Chale climb onto the chair, obediently sitting still.
The sassy manner he usually displayed at home was nowhere to be seen; instead, he was well-behaved and shy.
If only Jasy were here, he wouldn't be so scared.
Who was this great grandfather really?
"I visited your mother's grave this afternoon. You've kept the cemetery in good condition. It's just a pity that she's all alone," Spencer Childe spoke calmly.
"I've asked Tomer to stay with her."
"I saw Tomer. She has aged, and the news about Yolanda Fern hit her hard. She kept saying how she never imagined Yolanda could be such a person."
