Chapter Sixty Four
In which Ayne
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[Ayne Kent’s Point of View]
It was three in the morning.
Walking down my room to grab some water, I did expect to see my father lounging around the garden again. He has done it several times now like it was a routine that he would have. The man would always be outside, drinking some coffee and seemingly rethinking about life. My eyes looked over the view, waiting for the right time to call him.
Yet I was surprised by what I saw.
I would have never expected to see my mother in the area, all alone.
She had been busy for a while, never really having time with Dad.
“Mom,” I called, gathering her attention. My eyes caught her hands, one that seemed to inch closer to her face, as if wiping something from it. When she failed to face me, it was cle
