"Don't worry, wife." Dylan Young picked up the car key and was about to leave, "By the way, it seems we're out of fruit at home, should I bring some back when I return?"
"No need, when you get back, we'll go to the supermarket."
"You're right, then we're off."
"Go ahead."
The two men happily left the house, closed the door, and their expressions instantly changed.
After getting in the car, Anthony Davis asked Dylan Young, "What's your take on Fristy Davis handling things today?"
Dylan Young chuckled coldly, "What can I say? It's a struggle of a trapped animal, making a last-ditch effort, but I must admit, she's doing it quite skillfully."
On the surface, Fristy Davis seemed to handle the matter beautifully; even her excuse was well thought out. It's as if everything was just as she said—selling her body just to find Aya quickly. Doesn't that reasoning sound so touching?
But when you tear away the seemingly touching excuse, what's left is full of holes.
