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Scar sighed. Maureen glared at him. "You bastard!" He rolled his eyed. "And what did I do now, Maureen dear?" "You—you did this somehow!" She said in frustration. He swallowed. "You know what? You're talking nonsense again." "Everything is your fault and now Joesph is gonna die," she looked away. He looked after her, pulling her elbow. "He's not gonna die. He'll be fine. As long as we don't worry him. So keep your voice down when you insult me." "You wouldn't understand," she shook him off. "Joesph is the first person in a long time who—who cared about me. And was like a father to me." Scar looked away. "Joesph has been taking care of me since I was five years old. He is my father." She looked away. "Well, still." Scar smiled, putting his hand on her head. She frowned. "It's alr
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