Charlette’s P.O.V. (continued)
For the next half an hour, Mom explained the difficult ones patiently. I didn’t hesitate asking her whatever I didn’t understand.
A call to her study is like a death sentence to me, but if she approaches me in my room, it’s always pleasant and good for my studies.
“Alright, Mom… I understand them now. You should go and have a good sleep. I am sure that you have an early morning meeting.” I insisted her worriedly when she suppressed her yawns third time in the short span of three minutes.
“Yeah… you are right.” She mumbled, rubbing her eyes.
I feel sorry for my mother sometimes.
I don’t know who my father was, and why did he abandon us, but Mom always said that he is dead, and we shouldn’t talk about him.
All I know is his name. We don’t have any photo
