But Laura had unwittingly thrown a wrench in the works.

Mark and Edwin headed home.

The ride was silent, Edwin brooding in the back seat.

Mark manned the wheel.

Right then, he was itching for a smoke.

As the light flipped to red, he stopped the car and tried to bridge the gap with his son.

“You can't treat girls that way. Think about her situation. She got shoved down the stairs and broke her leg.

Edwin, did I raise you to act like this?"

Edwin stayed silent.

Mark was at a loss with Edwin, yet he held back from sharp words.

Only when the car nestled into the villa and halted did Edwin murmur, “You never raised me or taught me anything."

With those words, he unlatched the door and hopped out.

Staring at the gaping door, Mark seethed.

He stormed out, the car door slamming behind him, bracing to confront Edwin once more.

But entering the hall, Mark froze.

There was Edwin, kneeling upright on the stairs, his small frame rigid, exuding defiance.

Olivia was pestering to play with Edwin.

He merely patted her, muttering, “Go over there."

Mark's laughter was tinged with ire.

Ah!