The girl was chewing gum, her white hair suggesting she was a delinquent.


    "Hey, I''m talking to you," she told Frank. "Are you mute?"


    "Watch your manners, Kat!" Nash strode out of the kitchen just then, frowning at her.


    "It''s fine—it''s only natural that she asks questions since a stranger has just showed up in her house."


    Frank smiled faintly. "Hello. I''m Frank Lawrence."


    "Right."


    Kat Yego yawned, shooting Nash an uninterested look and saying coolly, "Honestly, I don''t care where


    you find all these idiots..."


    "Watch your mouth, brat!" Nash snapped, ring at her." This is Mr. Lawrence. He''s an important guest


    of the Turnbulls!"


    "If he is, what is he doing here instead of staying with the Turnbulls?" Kat simply snorted in disdain.


    "Alright, just leave me out of your mess. I need money now—I''m going out with my friends soon."


    "Thiste at night?" Nash frowned. "Your entrance examinations areing up, and you''re a girl. What


    do you think you''d look like, staying out for so many nights?"


    Kat appeared really annoyed. "Cut the crap—it''s just annoying. Are you giving me money or not?"


    "That''s not the point." Nash appeared utterly disappointed. "What do you think you look like, going out


    every night dressed like that? Don''t you know that our neighbors talk?"


    "Oh, you''re so annoying, giving me crap whenever I ask for money. just shut it if you don''t want to give


    me any! And I''m an adult, so you don''t have to worry about me!" Kat snapped furiously, mming the


    door behind her as she strode out.


    "That brat." Nash was shaking his head and sighing, but he could not do anything about his daughter.


    Turning to Frank, he sighed. "I''m sorry about that mess, Mr. Lawrence."


    "It''s alright. The young ones can get rebellious." Frank smiled and shook his head.


    -


    Nash was done cooking after ten minutes.


    This text is property of N?/velD/rama.Org.


    As Frank ate, he found the food delicious—it was not as good as Carol Zims'' cooking, but he could not


    find any ws.


    "I''m sorry, Mr. Lawrence, but I''ll be packing up some of it if you don''t mind." Nash smiled apologetically.


    "Kat hasn''t eaten for a day, and I suspect she''d be hungry when she gets back tonight."


    "It''s alright." Frank chuckled. "And you don''t have to restrain yourself around me, Nash. You''re the host


    here—do whatever you want, and don''t worry about me." "Thank you, Mr. Lawrence." Nash kept


    nodding as he thanked Frank and packed up a small portion of every dish gingerly and meticulously.


    Frank looked on, suddenly reminded of his father.


    The man never cared about anything in the house, always staying cold no matter what Frank''s mother


    did. He never even shed a tear when she died, leaving Frank to wonder if his heart was made of stone


    — all he had from the man were cold lectures and scoldings with no familial warmth at all.


    That was when someone knocked repeatedly on the front door. "Hey, Nash! Your daughter''s in trouble!"


    "Kat''s in trouble? What happened?"


    Nash did a double take and put down fork and knife as he asked nkly.