The muscular men at the back began to poke fun. All of them were behaving brazenly, leering at them.
“Ms. Natasha, why don’t we leave for now? These people look difficult,” Edmund advised quietly, shrinking into himself.
“Why are you panicking, Dad? This is the Harmons’ home. What kind of trouble are they capable of kicking up here?” Abigail glared.
She’d always looked down on her father’s cowardly tendencies, always recoiling at the most minor things.
Was he even a man?
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