Dylan Young smiled, his expression quite gentle, revealing no sign of interrogation.
But Fristy Davis still sensed a feeling of swords and daggers from him, countless knives flying towards her, aiming straight for her vital points.
There was no blood, but the pain was indeed severe.
Because she already felt that after Dylan Young said those words, the way the Davis Family elders looked at her had obviously changed. They were originally grateful towards her, but Dylan's words slowly made their gratitude fade away.
Fristy tightly clenched her hand, her face stern. "Dylan, what do you mean by that? I must first confirm it myself before I can tell Uncle and Auntie, right? Although Nell looks a lot like Auntie when she was young, I have to be cautious in this matter. After all, it's not uncommon to find people who look alike in this world. I can only tell Uncle and Auntie after confirming it myself, otherwise, wouldn't it be just empty joy for them?"
