"What happened?"
Maxwell Peary slumped tiredly onto the sofa. The doors and windows were tightly shut, yet a heavy scent still seemed to linger in the air.
"Uncle, when will you be back?"
After much thought, Nia Mitchell decided to venture a different question.
Maxwell Peary was taken aback, a burst of joy exploding in his heart. Was this Rabina Mitchell missing him?
Hmm… He missed her too.
"Missing me?"
With a habitual quirk of his lips, he lounged on the sofa, a glint of amusement in his eyes.
Nia Mitchell's face flushed crimson. Surely not.
"No, I was just asking casually."
She contradicted him obstinately, her demeanor very serious.
"Does Uncle's work also involve going as far as Provence?"
Despite her hesitation, she still asked the question in a roundabout way.
"I came here for some personal matters."
Maxwell Peary didn't explain much further.
