Qiao Dehou gently stroked her hair, his eyes a bit moist: "Good child... good child..."
Leaning against the familiar embrace, Qiao Mo's nose tingled.
In these past two years, she hardly had a chance to properly look at him.
At first, he went to prison, and the square cell separated them, then he inexplicably got injured, and after that, he remained unconscious.
Father and daughter embraced for a long time before Qiao Mo's emotions gradually settled.
Once calm, before Qiao Dehou could speak, Qiao Mo blurted out many of her questions from back then, like whether she was that girl, why she had a sister, Qiao Yun, and whether he knew about the fire.
Qiao Dehou pondered for a moment and then began to speak slowly.
Of course, he painted the fire as an accident and didn't mention the subsequent car accident.
Qiao Mo sat by the bed, dazed, murmuring: "So it really was me..."
Fu Nancheng stood by her side, gently pulling her into his arms without a word.
...
