When they reached the other side, Dylan finally spoke to Ivy Grant.
"What was that all about just now? Do you mean dad and mom aren't getting along well? Why were you still asking questions? I'm truly worried that if you keep asking, something bad might happen."
Dylan was still speaking in a low voice, but he could feel his palms sweating, all sweat from just before.
Ivy Grant frowned, hesitating over whether or not to tell Dylan.
Eventually, Ivy decided against it, simply sighing without sharing her thoughts with Dylan. She always felt Dylan wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed; if she told him, he would only worry incessantly, yet be unable to do anything.
"Alright, alright, let's just say I was overthinking it. It's indeed good that the two of them are getting along now."
Ivy glanced at the snow ice in Dylan's hand and decided against it; she had no desire to eat it.
"You go ahead and eat this by yourself, I've lost my appetite. I want to go lie down."
