Robert Stephens' brows gently knitted together.
He looked at George Stephens, not saying a word, as if he was entirely at a loss with this child.
In some respects, he was indeed quite stumped by George Stephens.
Over the years, this child hadn't mastered anything except for one skill—playing "hide and seek." No matter how many people tried to prevent him from escaping, he'd manage to sneak out from the corner in the blink of an eye.
This kind of mischief without learning seems inexplicable.
Raising his hand, he pinched his brows lightly with his cold fingertips, and Robert Stephens, with a steady voice, said softly, "After lunch tomorrow, let Thomas Woods take you out for a stroll. Be back before five in the afternoon."
George Stephens suddenly turned around, a hint of delight surfacing in his dark eyes, yet he didn't let it show with a smile and instead asked him, "Aren't you going out with me tomorrow?"
