Jeremiah was rounding his eyes when he heard the firm statement from his daughter's tiny lips. He, who had previously clenched his fists and was ready to give William a bare fist, now retreated in an orderly fashion.
Not because he desired to retreat and stop the fight they hadn't started yet, but because of the shock that made him feel a sensation of paralysis that numbed his nerves all of a sudden.
The middle-aged man sat on the floor, still sturdy and dashing, ruffling his hair in despair. There was no one he could blame for what was happening now but himself.
And Marion, who could only watch her father's inner battle right in front of her eyes, could only surrender. Marion's arms were still outstretched to protect William from her father's wrath, which she was sure would happen without waiting.