"Bastian..." Norman Douglas stood by the door, his voice hoarse, "what are you doing?"
At the sound of his father's voice, his son turned around.
His innocent and cute face, matched with the sharp scissors in his hand, sent wave after wave of chill through Norman Douglas's heart as he watched, trembling with cold.
Norman Douglas stood by the door without moving and said to his son, "Bastian, put down the scissors..."
Sebastian Douglas let the hand holding the scissors fall and waved his other hand at his father.
Norman Douglas walked heavily into the room.
"Sister is in pain, I want to make her feel better," Sebastian Douglas explained innocently, pointing at Jane McCain, "Dad, look, sister has sweated a lot."
Norman followed his son's pointing finger.
Jane McCain was heavily drunk, almost immediately falling asleep upon touching the pillow, her eyes closed, eyebrows slightly furrowed, her neckline open wide, revealing snowy-white skin and her intimate undergarments.
