Samuel knew he was nothing but a child in a world driven by adults.
At least, that's what he knows now… because there was no way he would understand something as complex as that back when he was just nothing but the Small Samuel, five years old with only ladybugs as the source of fascination.
Samantha Albrecht stared at the small Samuel sitting by the grass again. Their parents went to go on a date, leaving the two of them in the Albrecht Mansion, which was their home every summer. Samantha sighed. It wasn't that she disliked being with her little brother—it was just that babysitting without any other thing to do—was extremely exhausting.
"No Wi-fi, no signal." Samantha sighed as she stares at the Conan Doyle book in her lap. "Just these old novels…"
