"How could you do that, Uncle? You did that on purpose, didn't you? You... you you!"
Emma Tremont was so angry she didn't know what to say.
But why, oh, why did her heart feel a tiny bit of... delight?
Oh God, what was she even thinking!
She was going to go crazy!
"What's wrong with me?" Declan Darcy looked at her calmly, "Make yourself clear!"
"I can't make it clear!" Emma Tremont snapped, "You... just turn around."
Declan Darcy frowned, but complied, "Okay, I'm turning around."
Upon hearing that, the features of Emma Tremont's face, which were nearly scrunched together, finally relaxed a bit.
Did he really turn around?
Emma Tremont, half-doubting, slowly opened her eyes a sliver, and then gradually unfolded her fingers...
Yes, the uncle indeed turned around, but that back, from the shoulder blades, down to the waist, and further down...
Ah, still an eyesore.
