Seraphina Redgrave couldn't discern his mood, and furrowed her brow, asking, "Don't like it?"
Indeed, her thoughts before were a bit too bold. His mother and sister held such significant places in his heart that she couldn't easily touch upon them.
Ethan Sterling crouched down in front of her, carefully holding her hand, placing it before his eyes, and examining it meticulously.
Against his backdrop, her palm appeared even smaller, her hands, delicate and fine, seemed as though Ethan could break them with just a bit of force.
All the injuries on her hand had healed, and he couldn't find the marks once left from carving tombstones.
However, just thinking about what Nanny Lynch said, his mind conjured the image of Seraphina tirelessly carving day and night with bandaged fingers, causing a pang of pain in his heart.
"I didn't ask you to do this."
He stated, word by word.
