"Does Auntie not clean?"
"I don't let her clean," Amelia said.
Christopher seemed to realize it, thinking to himself, as expected.
Back at Orchard Garden, her study was rarely tidy.
But the living room was never this messy.
"How come it wasn't like this at Orchard Garden?"
Christopher's words were unintentional, but Amelia took them to heart.
Amelia reached out and touched him, soothing him with a gentle tone: "Orchard Garden was more crowded, this place is more relaxed."
Christopher gave a noncommittal grunt, but said nothing.
The man sat on the edge of the sofa, casually flipping through the documents and materials on Amelia's desk.
As he flipped, a greeting card fell out.
[Distant Greetings, Joyful Birthday]
Eight simple words with no signature.
But Christopher recognized the handwriting.
The handwriting of Henry Wood was like his own personal symbol, some people said Henry's writing was as gentle and smooth as jade, just like the man himself.
