Butler Forrest nodded and said, "Yes."
He immediately led the people to the front yard, not forgetting to take an umbrella.
Maeve Lane had stayed up late last night messing around with Julian Fairchild and got up early again, so this morning she hadn't rested at all and her dark circles were particularly noticeable.
She leaned against the sofa and closed her eyes for a while, and the sound of footsteps came nearer and nearer.
Maeve Lane raised her eyes and met Julian Fairchild's gaze first.
Behind him, Miles Hughes was holding Keane, who was clutching the fabric of his shoulder tightly, his small body still trembling slightly.
Her eyes deepened, "Julian Fairchild, you..."
"Oh no!"
Maeve Lane's voice was interrupted by Mrs. Fairchild.
Mrs. Fairchild cried out in anguish and distress, "My dear grandson, where did you go?"
She threw aside what she was holding, her tone extremely worried, "I've been worried sick all day, scared your grandmother half to death!"
