But I shook my head. "Your work is more important. I can go back on my own." What I mean by going back was going back to my own home.
My alcoholic father was hit and killed in a car accident and not only did he leave me a family compensation.
The house where I used to want to run away the most and always get beaten had now become my only safe haven.
Looking at my lonely back as I left, Henry pursed his lips and was about to take a step forward, but Jessica grabbed his arm.
The woman said with a pale face that she suddenly felt very uncomfortable. It should be a hypoglycemic attack.
He hesitated for a moment and did not choose the direction I left, but turned and walked towards the nearby vending machine.
On the day when the lawyer drafted the divorce agreement for me, I happened to receive a call from Henry.
He told me urgently and gloomily, "My son is sick, come to the main house before six o'clock."
Before I could ask what illness he had, the man had already hung up the phone.
I printed out the agreement with a relieved smile.
When I arrived at the main house of the Quinton Family, I found out that all of the family members were there.