"My dad is..."
"Young master!"
Not far away, a man's voice suddenly called out, and hurried footsteps sounded. Daisy Ginger stood up and saw three or four tall men in casual clothes running towards her, one of them picking up the little boy in front of her.
"Young master, why did you come here alone? Are you hurt?"
The child hugged the little ball, looked at Daisy Ginger, and shook his head.
His eyes were dark, possibly because he was too young to show emotions. Daisy Ginger found it somewhat unsettling.
Like a beautifully crafted little doll.
"The little ball is dirty," he said to the man holding him.
"Let's go back and wash it. Sir is already out; he's in the car now. Let's head back."
"Oh..." He lowered his eyes, responded softly, and while being carried away, waved goodbye to Daisy Ginger. "Goodbye, sister."
Daisy Ginger smiled in response until the group left. Her face turned pale as she slowly sat on the bench by the sidewalk.
