~Mia Mondragon~
I sat by the window with my chin propped up, and my daily life in the Albert Ros mansion was like a reproduction. I don't even remember what day and night looks like, and could only occasionally call out to ma'am Janet and ask, what is the day, date.
The great Albert Ros mansion always seemed a little cold and impersonal. The high ceiling in the living room is hung with crystal ceiling lamps, long crystal beads strung in a line, and the fine light refracts dazzling light through the crystal.
I stood on the second floor and watched, and my heart was actually calm without a trace of ups and downs—I knew from Albert Ros' mouth that my mother was safe and out of danger.
That's enough for now. I know Albert Ros is cold-blooded and ruthless. I vaguely gave birth to this thou
