In a moment, Henry Ronan walked steadily into the living room.
The man always moved with such methodical precision, removing his coat, rolling up his sleeves, and settling into a seat.
His series of actions fell into Lucy Ansley's eyes, she could silently recite them as if subconsciously, they were already familiar to her.
At this moment, Lucy Ansley was squatting not far from the sofa, absentmindedly stroking Anna.
Even when the man sat down, she still did not speak, seemingly still savoring something.
"Staying up so late, how long do you plan to play with it?" Henry Ronan, sitting by the coffee table, pressed the button to boil water and looked up, his gaze unerringly directed at her.
The man's tone was very usual, deep and magnetic.
Lucy Ansley scratched Anna's little head, responding in a light voice: "I'm not very sleepy, I slept a lot this afternoon."
