Third Person's POV
Jane, who had been frantically worked up and ready to blow a fuse, suddenly stopped a few steps away when she saw the way Rodrique was disciplining Reece.
"Do you still feel like you want to smash things?" Rodrique's gentle voice made Jane instinctively duck behind a nearby tree.
"Ugh... No, Uncle. I feel... cold," Reece answered between ragged breaths.
Seeing him bent over with his head hanging low, his face and ears flushed red, his mouth open as he struggled to breathe, made Jane's chest tighten. Yet the gentle way Rodrique spoke to him rooted her beside the young oak tree. Somehow, she was certain Rodrique wasn't punishing Reece.
"Are you sure? You can still hit me if you're not satisfied," he said with a tenderness Jane never imagined he could be that gentle.
"Not right now, Uncle! My body just feels cold. I want to go inside."
Rodrique knelt in front of Reece.
"Now stand up," he ordered as he took hold of Reece's wrist.
