Shirley watched him without a word. She wasn't sure if she felt sorry for him or not; she only found his willfulness to be complicated. As she looked at her own son, whom she once could never teach properly, only half a year had passed and he had endured all the suffering and mockery. Now, he suddenly seemed to remember that having a mother was a good thing. For some reason, though, every time she saw him, she always remembered the footprints left on her body, and his cheerful encouragements, praising his beast of a father for hitting her so well, word by word.
She shivered unconsciously.
Dezi in front of her was wolfing down the cake. After he finished, he looked at her pleadingly and then started to cry again.
