"Claire, I want to take you to meet my grandfather today," Alvin said tenderly as soon as he sat down, holding her hand.
Claire froze.
So soon? Meet his grandfather already?
She hadn't even begun to prepare herself.
"Alvin, maybe we should wait a little longer," she said softly, pulling her hand back.
"Are you afraid?" Alvin's bright eyes softened. "My grandfather's a kind man, and he already has a good impression of you. Don't worry, nothing will happen with me there."
He spoke with such gentle reassurance.
Claire's gaze drifted to the bruises on his face, and she quickly said, "Alvin, look at you. Your injuries haven't even healed yet. If you take me to meet your grandfather like this, what will you tell him? He'll be worried sick. Let's wait until your face recovers, it's not urgent."
Alvin touched his cheek. She was right. The marks Gilbert Watson had left were still visible. Bringing Claire home like this really wasn't ideal.
