"Timmy…" Mrs. Quinn wanted him to stay, but Timmy had already run far away. She stood up stiffly, trying to cover up something, "I should go downstairs to keep an eye on Timmy. I'm afraid he might fall or get hurt."
"Mom," Jared Quinn lit another cigarette, took a deep drag, and spoke slowly through the swirling smoke, asking bluntly, "Is Wendy Lynch's matter related to you?"
Mrs. Quinn's pupils contracted sharply, her hands clutched at her clothes, sweat pouring from her palms, recalling the moment Wendy Lynch threatened her, and the thing Wendy had given her…
"Jared, what kind of joke is this? How could Wendy Lynch's matter be related to me? You're my son, I couldn't possibly do such a thing."
Mrs. Quinn's every reaction fell into Jared Quinn's eyes, his deep, narrow black gaze like a dark, haunting smoke spreading out, deep and terrifying, "That day, Wendy Lynch asked me to meet you, did you two plan something from the start?"
