Cecilia felt restless once again. She couldn't even lay her hands on her knees decorously.

Mark drove his black sports car speedily on the road.

Around nine o'clock in the evening, they arrived at the Fowler family's house.

Preparing to open the car door, Cecilia felt her legs go weak. She turned toward Mark and whispered, "Thank you for giving me a ride home, Uncle Mark."

Mark rested his elbow on the window and smoked quietly.

After a while, he threw the cigarette butt away and said in a hoarse voice, "I'm too old for little girls like you."

Cecilia bit her lip and muttered, "I'm 27 years old. I'm no longer a little girl.”

Mark wrapped his long, lean fingers around the steering wheel.

He smiled, a little in an amused way and a little in a mocking way.

"You carry around those plushies and a small milk bottle with you. Only little girls do that." ©

Being teased like that, Cecilia ran away.

Mark didn't leave immediately. ©

He sat in the car and smoked, watching Cecilia's slender figure disappear behind the black carved door.

He couldn't help thinking of someone to whom he'd once been close.

It was his younger sister Reina. ©

Reina passed away way before her time, and she didn't get the chance to see her family again before she was gone, a fact that had since become a thorn in Mark's heart.

He thought of Rena, his sister's daughter and his niece.

Rena inherited the Evans family's distinguishing physical features and brown hair.

In terms of personality though, Mark thought that Cecilia was more like Reina.

No. Cecilia was clumsier than Reina.

Lost in his own reverie, Mark forgot about the lit cigarette he had between his fingers. He didn't notice that it had burned out until its ashes fell on his trousers.

What was wrong with him today? He just saw a naughty child.