Hope Williams felt a jolt in her heart, and the deep voice rang in her ears, "What sort of mischief are you up to now?"
Hope was a bit nervous and at a loss, stuttering, "I... I'm reflecting on my faults..."
Waylon Lewis turned her body around, still pressing on her, but not using too much strength.
Hope's face still bore the traces of tears.
Willow's words echoed in her ear—she had to act pitiful.
As Hope was stared down by Waylon's deep eyes, she desperately tried to stir emotions within herself.
But today the tears seemed to be against her, stubbornly refusing to come out.
Seeing her struggling to force out some kind of expression but failing, Waylon wanted to scold her but he just couldn't bring himself to say it.
Eventually, Waylon sighed, "Hope Williams, will you die if you behave?"
Waylon picked her up and tucked her back into bed. Hope noticed a bowl of steaming porridge on the bedside table.
It looked delicious.
So he had gone downstairs to prepare food.