Zhao Yingjun didn't speak.
She looked down at Yan Qiaoqiao:
"Do you now... have a concept of a father?"
Just a few days ago, when she asked Yan Qiaoqiao if she remembered who her father was, Yan Qiaoqiao had countered with asking what a father was.
It seemed that these days of binge-watching TV had taught her a lot.
But...
Is knowledge the same as emotion?
With no memories of father or mother, of family, of affection, could she truly empathize?
Looking into Zhao Yingjun's eyes, Yan Qiaoqiao nodded:
"Other kids all have them."
Other kids?
"On TV?" Zhao Yingjun asked.
Yan Qiaoqiao shook her head, pointing outside the window:
"The kids in the yard."
At this moment, Yan Mei came over and explained to Zhao Yingjun:
"Qiaoqiao has started going out these last couple of days, playing with other kids in the neighborhood. There aren't many girls her age, around fourteen or so; most are seven or eight."
