Chapter 88: Holding A Cigarette


    Chapter 88: Holding a Cigarette


    Erica withdrew her gaze and walked towards her daughter on the grass while shaking her fan.


    The little girl was wearing a goose-yellow dress, with small braids tied up, sitting on the grass


    ying. Her voice was soft and cute, innocent and pure.


    Tanner left and went to a spot in the back mountain that looked suitable. He chopped off the snake''s


    head and buried it.


    The Foley Vi, themp in the study was as bright as daylight, and the tall figure behind the desk


    was as straight as a pine tree.


    There was white gauze wrapped around his hand, but it didn''t affect his ability to hold a pen.


    A beautiful and well-defined hand held a silver Parker pen, writing quickly while looking down.


    The light illuminated half of his face, his full and broad forehead, thick and curly eyshes covered


    the emotions in his eyes, and he had a high nose bridge.


    The other half of his face was in the darkness, and the facial features were unclear. This contrast


    between light and dark made him look like a character from aic book, wless and perfect.


    When old Mr. Foley came in, he saw the tall figure behind the desk at a nce and coughed softly.


    The man didn''t even lift his head, and a cold voice echoed in the space, "Grandfather, do you have


    something to ask?"


    "You little brat, can''t Ie to see you if I have nothing to ask?"


    Saying that, he walked in with a cane.


    At a nce, he saw the words written on the white paper on the desktop.


    Kelvin''s handwriting was extremely beautiful, like a dragon soaring over the sea, with a hint of


    sharpness in its elegance.


    Old Mr. Foley nced at his handwriting and said incredulously, "Why did you suddenly copy the


    bible?"


    Moreover, he had always been an atheist, so his behavior today was indeed somewhat strange.


    Kelvin stopped writing after finishing thest word, listening to the skepticism in his grandfather''s


    voice.


    The pen was ced on the table.


    He didn''t answer that question, his gaze fixed on the tabletop where the mimosa was ced. These


    past few days, he kept recalling the scene where Cheyenne had sucked out the venom from him.


    Even though they had clearly agreed to settle the matter and move on, he still felt a sense of


    frustration in his heart.


    He heard that copying the bible could calm one''s mood, so after taking a bath, Kelvin took out this


    pen and sat at the table writing.


    But Cheyenne''s sarcastic smile was still deeply rooted in his mind and couldn''t be shaken off.


    "Just seeking peace of mind, Grandpa. It''s gettingte," Kelvin said coldly, picked up the cigarette


    beside him, and put one in his mouth.


    He rarely smoked, only when he felt upset or stressed from work.


    The blue glow of the match reflected in his deep eyes, cold enough to chill one''s bones.


    Old Mr. Foley furrowed his brow unconsciously and nced at Kelvin. "You''ve been restlesstely, I


    can tell."


    "No."


    "Don''t rush to dismiss it. I''ve watched you grow up. I know you better than anyone. You''re a


    wonderful kid in every way, but there''s one thing about you - you tend to keep things bottled up


    inside."


    It was undoubtedly exhausting to be that way.


    Other kids mighte home from school or outside boasting about being bullied or praised by their


    teachers, but not Kelvin. He had always been reserved, keeping all of his emotions bottled up inside


    him without ever expressing them, whether they were good or bad.


    Content is property ? N?velDrama.Org.


    His outward demeanor was extremely mature; he could handle anything that came his way with


    ease and efficiency - something that made old Mr. Foley very proud.


    "Is it because of Cheyenne?" he asked finally.


    There was a sharp snap as Kelvin pressed down too hard on the pen in his hand when old Mr.


    Foley mentioned that name.


    The pointed tip tore through the paper and into the wood surface of the desk before it broke.


    Ink spilled out onto the page, slowly spreading across its surface like a stain as it obscured all of


    Kelvin''s beautiful handwriting beneath it.


    He took a deep breath in through his nose, feeling the acrid scent of smoke filling up his nostrils


    with an ufortable burn.


    Leaning back against the cold chair, he managed to regain someposure. His slender fingers


    held onto his cigarette as he exhaled a hazy purple smoke that slowly rose up in the study.


    "It''s not because of her."


    "You still care about her," old Mr. Foley said confidently.


    "No, I don''t." Kelvin replied with an increasingly dark expression on his face.


    "Yes, you do! Why else would you risk getting hurt to save her?"


    Kelvin couldn''te up with an answer for that one and fell silent for a moment before coldly


    retorting, "If you saw a dying dog on the street, even you would try to save it."


    Old Mr. Foley rolled his eyes at this response and left the room. ''Fine, you''re being stubborn now,


    but you''ll regret itter!''