"Let the child breathe, gathering around him like a pack of wolves. How do you possibly want him to answer that?"
The voice was cool-headed and firm, drawing everyone's attention.
Being pushed in a wheelchair, the Matriarch — their mother and grandmother — in a classic rich dress, said as she locked eyes with all four of her daughters.
"Don't mind us, sweetheart," Aunt Raven said with a teasing drawl, a smirk on her face as she seemed to realize what their mother meant. The other women did too — and their children. Especially Blake, whose face twisted with a flash of jealousy and irritation seeing his mom also gathering around Max, and being classified as one of the wolves.
"Instead, why don't you all owe him a favour. That should make up for your years of negligence towards your own sister's child."
Seeing that each of the women were just about to walk towards their seats, their mother didn't stop but struck again.
Exchanging glances, the pink-haired woman spoke.
