Simpson's mother remarried many years ago, and he lived with his father, a middle-aged man with a wooden expression.
His face always looked tired, and he hardly spoke with anyone.
"Please accept my condolences."
Amanda and Roger, one after the other, presented flowers.
"Wait a moment."
Suddenly, Simpson's father spoke up; he looked at Roger, who was standing behind, "Was it you who chose to distract the beast's attention, thereby creating an opportunity for the others to escape?"
Roger nodded.
The middle-aged man's wooden face flashed a hint of warmth, "Thank you, although he still didn't survive in the end."
"But you tried."
Roger didn't know what to say for a moment, so he just nodded and gave a consoling smile.
"Have a look around."
"If Simpson were still alive, he would have wanted you to come over as guests."
