Poppy Hale was standing at the door changing her shoes.
Hearing Mrs. Hawthorne’s self-talk made her scalp tingle.
She didn’t dare to look up.
Pretended as if she hadn’t heard anything.
Quickened her pace in changing shoes.
Watching Mrs. Hawthorne holding Florence just now, the string in Poppy’s heart was plucked.
A vague sense of unease.
But Mrs. Hawthorne didn’t suspect anything, probably because both Mrs. Hawthorne and Ms. Valerie Barrett were present.
The resemblance between Florence and those two was evident.
Poppy temporarily breathed a sigh of relief.
She also didn’t notice that Declan Hawthorne’s gaze had been fixed on her face.
Observing, probing, not missing a single expression on Poppy’s face.
She showed no extra reaction, as if Mrs. Hawthorne’s words caused no ripples in her.
Declan couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or it was as expected, and he withdrew his gaze discreetly.
Picked up the car keys.
"I’ll give you a ride."
"No need, Florence and I can just take the subway back."
Declan raised an eyebrow, looking down at her.
The man, tall and imposing, cast a shadow over Poppy, blocking the light in front of her.
"The nearest subway station is three kiloters away. Are you sure you want to take the subway?"
The Hawthorne Family lived in an upscale villa district in Arvum.
No shared bikes nearby either.
To take the subway, they’d have to walk three kiloters.
Florence wasn’t strong; she’d have to be carried.
A child over twenty pounds, carrying for three kiloters to the subway station, was indeed a bit tough.
Poppy didn’t want to trouble Declan either.
"Then please trouble President Hawthorne to take us to the subway station."
Declan glanced at her.
Casually took Florence from her arms.
Florence didn’t struggle but instead hugged Declan’s neck and gave him a peck on the cheek.
A spring-like smile imdiately appeared on Declan’s face.
Even a thousand-year-old iceberg would lt.
Poppy watched, a bit stunned.
Florence truly liked Declan.
She also really liked Declan’s mother.
This fact couldn’t be faked.
Blood ties are truly mysterious.
Declan carried Florence out the door.
Mrs. Hawthorne watched them leave, patting her chest, pulling Heather, saying, "Heather, what do you think Declan ans by this?"
Heather smiled knowingly.
Didn’t tell Mrs. Hawthorne.
Today, it was Declan who called, asking her to pick up Florence from the kindergarten as well.
She asked why, but Declan didn’t say.
But judging by the earlier scene.
Declan probably had his own intentions.
"Aunt, don’t worry about it."
Iris Quill was playing with blocks, and hearing this, nodded knowingly.
"Yeah, last ti when I slept over at Aunt Poppy’s, I saw Uncle not wearing clothes."
The whole family: "?!"
The amount of information was overwhelming.
Even Heather’s eyes widened in shock, looking at Iris.
"Did you really see it?"
"I really did, Aunt Poppy said she would call the police to arrest Uncle. Not wearing clothes ans arrest, right? Then Grandpa didn’t wear clothes last night either, should we arrest him too?"
Mrs. Hawthorne coughed.
This little rascal.
Last night, Mr. Hawthorne ca back from swimming without a shirt and was caught by him.
But with this interlude, Mrs. Hawthorne forgot to question further.
Busy thinking, from now on, she should regard Iris as a grown-up, need to be careful.
-
The car drove all the way, heading toward Poppy Hale’s neighborhood.
Passing the subway station, Poppy wanted to speak up to interrupt Declan.
The man tilted his head, raising an eyebrow, glancing at the back seat.
Florence was already asleep in the car seat, holding the little toy given by Mrs. Hawthorne.
"Are you sure you want to wake her up?"
Poppy could only remain silent for a mont.
"Thank you, President Hawthorne, for the trouble."
The man smirked, "Calling President Hawthorne every ti is indeed troubleso."
Poppy could hear the displeasure in his tone regarding this form of address.
But how should she address him, call her boss by his first na?
Poppy felt she didn’t have that much courage for now; at least for the mont, she still needed this job.
As for the past.
They did have many intimate nicknas.
When she was happy, she would call Declan by many cute nas, she could say even the most cheesy ones.
Thinking back now, it makes her ears burn.
At that ti, she was indeed a bit shaless.
The car stopped at an intersection.
Soone was waving in front.
Stopped to see, it was Mason Rivers.
Mason wiped the sweat off his forehead, looking at Declan.
"Declan, my car broke down, can you give a ride?"
Declan slightly frowned.
Ahead, Mason’s car was parked there, already stalled.
The man said coldly, "Get in."
Mason scrambled into the car, and once he was in the back, noticed Florence was asleep.
His breathing instantly softened.
He didn’t ask why Poppy and Florence were in Declan’s car.
He started talking about the earlier incident.
"Declan, I contacted people from the company, they’ll co over in two hours, good thing I ran into you."
He recognized Declan’s car, a Jeep Wrangler.
Quite high-profile, very noticeable on the road.
Declan casually asked, "Where are you going?"
"Just drop off at a place where I can easily get a taxi on the main road."
Declan gave a nod.
Mason looked at Florence, a smile on his face.
"Hey, Poppy, I rember you used to have a dog? What was its na?"
"Hannah. It has already passed away."
Hannah was an Australian Shepherd with a full na.
Mr. Hale’s beloved, carefully raised for fifteen years.
It was already considered a senior dog.
After Mr. Hale passed away, it refused food and drink, and left within a week.
Besides Mr. Hale’s grave, a dedicated dog grave was made for Hannah, to keep Mr. Hale company.
Poppy used to often talk about Hannah.
Unexpectedly, the dog had already passed away, and the car fell silent for a mont.
Mason spoke, "It’s a nice na."
Poppy turned her head aside, saying casually, "Like it? Then you can go to the police station and change your na to that, just don’t know if your parents are willing to let you take my dad’s surna."
Mason was at a loss for words.
But luckily, he was already used to Poppy’s personality.
"When did Uncle pass away?"
Poppy replied sullenly, "So concerned, are you planning to visit my dad’s grave?"
Mason paused.
"Wouldn’t be impossible."
"No need, I rarely visit him myself."
Poppy wasn’t in high spirits.
Mason could tell, so he didn’t say more.
He looked up, in the front mirror, reflecting Declan’s face.
As cold as ice.
Just a glance made Mason feel as if his bones were frozen.
The warning in his eyes reminded Mason of what Declan had said that day in the hospital.
He looked away.
In the bustling downtown area, the car stopped by the road.
Mason said goodbye and got off.
Poppy also wanted to get off here, but the door was locked.
The car pulled away again.
Turning at an intersection, leaving Mason’s figure completely behind.
Declan’s expression slightly softened.
"Are you very close to him?"
Poppy was puzzled, not knowing where his sudden anger ca from.
"Pretty close, why?"
She didn’t have many friends, Mason was indeed one of them.
They used to play gas together, skip classes to go online gaming, accumulating so shared experiences and friendship.
Declan’s lips were pressed together.
He could see it.
When talking with Mason, Poppy always had a sense of unexplainable ease.
With him, only guardedness and rejection remained.
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