Belinda Swan huffily left the room. Nia Mitchell, still settled comfortably on the couch, watched her go and then turned to Maxwell Peary with a smirk.
"Seems like Uncle Peary has quite a few admirers," she teased.
Just look at her, so beautiful and tear-stricken. Tsk, tsk, Maxwell Peary is truly heartless.
Maxwell curled his lips into a grin. "But I only fancy one, and that's you."
Nia blushed once again. She couldn't help but recall the "daily necessities" stashed in the drawer of her bedside table.
Maxwell moved to sit beside Nia, casually draping an arm around her shoulder.
"Let's go. Uncle Peary is taking you out for a feast."
Nia nodded and scurried into the bedroom to change. A few new clothes had been delivered earlier.
She browsed through the clothing rack. Unfortunately, none of them matched her usual style.
"Uncle Peary, what should I wear?"
She turned to see Maxwell entering the room and continued sifting through the clothes.
