Maxwell Peary discreetly arched an eyebrow, the hint of a smile on the corner of his mouth gradually fading.
People say, "Go three days without discipline, and they'll tear the roof off." He'd just disciplined her this morning, and by afternoon, she was already raising hell.
"I misspoke!"
Seeing Maxwell's expression darken, Nia Mitchell immediately and obediently apologized.
As expected, once she finished speaking, Maxwell's expression improved somewhat.
But what to do with all the food on this table?
She wondered if Uncle Peary had eaten while she was asleep.
"Good, as long as you understand."
Teachable, this one, Maxwell thought, patting her small head. "Eat up quickly."
Look at the way she's eating, as if she's been starved for three days and nights.
"Okay."
Nia enjoyed her meal heartily, but her small eyes kept peeking at Maxwell.
Her saliva has sprayed all over these dishes; what will he do?
