A man walked into the room again. Stephen Lynch looked at his daughter and said to Mrs. Lynch with a gloomy face, "You go out first."
"Stephen, what are you planning to do? She's our daughter, you can't harm her. I'll go talk to the Quinn Family. After all, I'm the old man's daughter too, I'll go back to my family to demand an explanation. You can't harm my daughter," Mrs. Lynch said, shielding Wendy Lynch behind her.
"Madam, how could I do anything to our daughter? You go out first; I have a few words to say to her," said Stephen Lynch.
Mrs. Lynch looked suspiciously at her husband, stood up, and walked out, closing the room door behind her.
"Dad," Wendy Lynch mumbled, a hint of gloominess in her eyes, looking pitiful with her head down, stirring sympathy.
But Stephen Lynch walked over and gave her a hard slap, leaving a vivid mark of his five fingers.
"Dad, why are you hitting me?" Wendy Lynch cried more heartbrokenly and despairingly, covering her face with one hand.
