I've become more detached from everything, and while I was angry at Martin's actions, it wasn't enough to let my anger show, especially with Pomelo watching nearby.
I casually tossed the ring into the kitchen trash can, not bothering to look at Martin, and coldly said, "Get out."
Martin didn't look too upset. Instead, a hint of awkwardness crossed his face.
Ignoring him, he turned his attention to Pomelo, "Little girl, what's your name?"
In a sweet, childish voice, Pomelo replied, "I'm called Pomelo."
Martin asked, "Why are you here participating in this show?"
Pomelo responded, "Daddy and Mommy sent me here to make money to treat my little brother's illness."
Hearing Pomelo's words, I paused what I was doing.
Most of the kids participating in this variety show were the children of investors, celebrities, or wealthy families. How could Pomelo come from such an ordinary background?
Martin held Pomelo on his lap on the sofa, continuing, "What's wrong with your little brother?"
Pomelo lowered his head, his little face full of sadness, and shook his head, "My little brother has leukemia and needs a bone marrow transplant, but our family has no money."
The egg custard I made for Pomelo was ready.