"Yes. Your husband has been buried in the grave, so his cousin will play with you." Harris patted his chest.
"Your husband has just been buried," I muttered unhappily.
Harris smacked his lips. "Did you defend him?"
I didn't want to waste my time on the argument, so I ran over and asked, "Mr. Carroll, may I go?"
"Go if you want to. Just don't use your real name," Carroll warned.
"Yes, sir!"
I didn't figure out the reason for Carroll's weird request till I arrived at the exhibition.
The reason was that this exhibition was held by David, my uncle.
"Well... does the famous actor like embroidery?" Looking at the poster at the door, I asked Harris.
Harris almost spat the coffee out of his mouth. "Hey, come on, is this embroidery? This is a work of art, the top-level
