Ivan sympathetically shook his head as Zayden narrated how seven-year-old Ziana cried when they left the city. "You must have had a tough childhood because of her," Ivan said, his voice filled with empathy. Norah smiled, but Ziana felt an overwhelming urge to stuff him with chicken feet. His storytelling skills were as good as those of snake oil salesmen.
"Ziana was clingy but cute," Zayden replied with a smile. He raised his glass, savoring Ziana's furious expression along with the wine.
Ziana clenched her fork and dug into her salad. Her mother had forcefully dragged her out, and now she had to endure his fabricated neighbor tales again. It was a clever way for him to disguise their association as grim reapers. However, she didn't appreciate her family being manipulated by him, blindly believing every word that came out of his mouth.
