Wilson Finley spoke with remarkable calm.
He lightly raised his eyelashes and then gave a slight smile, "Your uncle watched you grow up, watched you stumble along the way. You're not the type to easily reveal your thoughts and feelings, but I understand you better than you understand yourself."
Yvonne Finley's character seemed composed and thorough.
But it wasn't really.
From a young age, she built walls and fortresses for herself, accustoming herself to survival in an indifferent environment. Under such self-protection mechanisms, many words and behaviors would erect a sharp thorn that hurts both herself and others.
"Yvonne." Wilson Finley looked at her through the mottled light and shadow, and sighed almost imperceptibly, in an unclear tone: "Whatever you want, your uncle will help you with it. Even that insurmountable wall is not impossible to knock down brick by brick."
Family pedigree.
Social status.
He could lift her up.
His niece, Yvonne, didn't need to be humble.
