Chapter: 1766
June's eyes filled with tears as she pleaded, “Rosa, I had no choice back then. Can't you..."
Before June could finish her words, Rosa lifted her gaze and stared at her with indifference.
As June's words of grievance reached the tip of her tongue, they were abruptly stifled by the coldness in Rosa's gaze, leaving only silent tears behind.
“Didn't you go to call Maya and Rosa for breakfast? Why aren't they down yet?"
Brent Moran, who had been patiently waiting in the ground-floor dining room, approached. His deep and solemn voice reached them from afar before he even reached their vicinity.
As soon as Maya saw Brent, she seemed to naturally recoil from him. Hearing his voice, she immediately sought comfort in Rosa's embrace.
Feeling Maya's reluctance, Rosa looked down and tenderly caressed Maya's back, consoling her in a gentle voice, “Maya, be a good girl. It's alright.
Mommy is here."
Maya, with her large, innocent eyes, nodded obediently.
As soon as she heard Brent's voice, June quickly wiped away the tears at the corners of her eyes and forced a smile. "Why did you come up? We were about to head downstairs. Maya just woke up, and I was playing with her."
Brent was not one to smile easily. Upon hearing this, he looked at Maya and noticed that she was clinging to Rosa protectively. His brow creased.
Children didn't form groundless dislikes for individuals, but they were perceptive enough to discern kindness or hostility. They could intuitively grasp whether someone held affection for them or not.
Maya could intuitively feel her grandfather's lack of fondness towards her.
Even at her tender age, the little girl comprehended that her grandfather harbored no affection for her. He consistently regarded her with a stern and unfriendly gaze.
It was true that Brent didn't have much fondness for Maya. He even believed that Maya's introverted and timid nature didn't quite fit in with the Moran family.
“Maya is getting older now. She should start learning to walk on her own."
Brent's tone contained a hint of authority, sounding like a superior issuing directives to a subordinate. It made those who heard it feel uneasy.
Maya, not fully understanding but hearing her name, held on to Rosa even more tightly.
Rosa's expression turned cold. "She just woke up, so a little morning fussiness is quite ordinary. Most of the time, she's well-behaved."
In other words, Maya's upbringing was not a matter that Brent needed to worry about.
Brent frowned as he looked at Rosa. “Indulging her like this might make her overly delicate."
“Maya is my daughter, and if she's delicate, it's my decision," Rosa retorted with a touch of defiance. "There's no need for excessive concern."
"Rosa, Is that how you speak to me?" Brent's voice grew harsher.
Rosa fixed a cold gaze upon him, choosing not to say anything in response.