When Ignatius Leclair came downstairs, he saw Mrs. Li coaxing the twins to sleep. Perhaps having not seen their mommy for a long time, the elder twin pouted his lips and began to wail in loud sobs, trying to catch their mommy's attention. Seeing his brother cry, the younger twin followed suit, and all at once, Mrs. Li was busy soothing one then the other.
The man approached, his sharp eyebrows knitting as he looked at the little ones, their scrunched-up faces red with crying. He extended his long fingers and poked at the chubby cheek of the younger one.
The younger twin, distracted by daddy, stopped crying and stared at the man before him with tear-filled, curious eyes. She grabbed his finger and tried to shove it into her mouth. She was hungry. She wanted to eat her hand.
Ignatius snorted lightly. Watching the younger twin playing with her saliva, he said indifferently, "Pretty little girls aren't allowed to eat their hands or play with their spit."
