Calla walked slowly toward the window, she needed the breeze because even though the air conditioner was on, she felt very hot.
Davis watched her as she stood by the window.
Was she going to tell him the truth or lie to his face? He wondered.
"If you don't want to talk about it, then it's fine." His tone was soft.
She turned around and faced him, by now he was standing behind her.
"No, I have to tell you about her, now that you have asked." She spoke in a low tone.
"Amelie is my daughter." She paused and looked into his eyes searching for something, anything, but what she got was a blank expression.
"I didn't give birth to her, she isn't my biological child but my adopted daughter. I know you might be thinking how can I have an adopted daughter of five at twenty-two, let me explain it to you."
She walked back to the table and sat down, he followed her. He poured her more wine.
She smiled at him. "Thanks."
