She was but a kite with its string cut.
Flighty in the sky, whether it rained or the wind blew, she revelled in her freedom, unfettered and unbound.
After finishing his last bite, Roy Yarn put down his chopsticks and stood up to clean up.
Hands that played the violin now held a greasy rice bowl, looking somewhat out of place, his movements also betraying a hint of unfamiliarity.
Louis Snyder glanced up and said with a scoff, "Roy Yarn, do all of the Yarn family members love to fawn over others so eagerly?"
He was already like this, how could Grace Yarn still not understand that he didn't want to eat the food she made?
Yet even so, Grace Yarn still insisted on bringing it.
Roy Yarn looked down seriously as he tidied up the table, "Mom is just worried about you."
"Worried?" Louis Snyder looked up, his dark eyes flashing as he stared at the pristine ceiling, and let out a cold laugh, "You think I would cherish that?"
He didn't want anyone's concern.
Only Hannah's.
