Chapter 24

Chapter 24

"Ah!" Ayr screamed in pain, covered his shoulder, retreated to the corner, and looked in disbelief at the old Bronte, his elderly father, who had been in tears but refused to put down the axe in his hand.

How is it possible? How is it possible! Why, why did my father treat himself like this?

"Ayer...my child..." Old Bronte trembled and raised the axe in his hand. "I'm sorry! Dad... Dad must kill you. Will you forgive me? Forgive Dad!"

Aier didn't know how to avoid or shout. The overwhelming sadness was about to drown her. She couldn't breathe, cry, and could do nothing. She could only watch her father kill herself.

"Uncle Bronte! What are you doing!" Rafael didn't know when he broke in. He desperately grabbed the broken old Bronte, grabbed the axe in his hand, and threw it aside. "Uncle Bronte! She is your daughter!"

Old Bronte scratched his hair, squatted on the ground sadly and cried: "Oh, my God! Oh my God! My daughter! My daughter! She is a werewolf! She is going to hurt other people! What should I do about this!"

"Dad..." Aier's tears flowed down gently, and his legs lost the strength to support his body. He collapsed to the ground, but he could not crawl to her poor old father, which would only make him afraid of himself.

"Uncle Bronte, don't make such a low-level joke, okay? That's to coax children." Of course, Raphael knew that Ayr was a werewolf, but Old Bronte had only one daughter like her, and he didn't want to let the poor old man spend the rest of his life alone. Well, well, Raphael admits that he has some sympathy, but whoever encounters such a thing will be in charge. This is also reasonable and understandable, isn't it?

"But, Raphael, listen to what the uncle said..." As if grabbing a life-saving straw, the old Bronte pulled down Raphael's sleeve and pulled his body down. He wanted to tell Raphael everything he heard, but Raphael didn't have the spare time to listen to him chatter here.

He made a silent gesture: "Uncle Bronte, where did you hear such ridiculous words? That is obviously used to alienate the relationship between you and Ayr. Uncle, I believe you won't be a stupid person. I beg you to stop suspicious, okay?"

Hearing Rafael's words, old Bronte's face suddenly turned red. He looked up at Er, who was covering his injured shoulder in the corner of the wall. She cried, almost all over her face with tears, but the corners of her mouth rose, because her father climbed up to her, hugged her, and shouted in pain, "I'm sorry! Sorry! My child! I didn't mean to! I shouldn't believe Marian's words! Does your shoulder still hurt?"

"Dad..." Aier also hugged his father, and the two hugged each other and cried.

Raphael didn't want to be a boring and illiterate light bulb. He quietly left the store and went to Dorothy's school gate to wait for her.

After a while, the school was over, and a large number of students poured out, but among so many students, Raphael could recognize Dorothy's dazzling red hair at a glance, as if she had a heart. Dorothy also saw him and held him high. He waved to him and ran over happily: "Raphael, have you been waiting here for a long time? Are you tired?"

Raphael shook his head and looked at the students: "Where's Pierre? Didn't you come out with him?"

"No, he has something else to do, so I'll come out first." Dorothy took Raphael's cold arm intimately and said, "Let's get the photos quickly!"

"All right, all right." Raphael smiled helplessly and walked to the photo studio with her. He didn't intend to talk to her about Ayr. She didn't have to be distracted by this little thing. According to Dorothy's kind and enthusiastic personality, she would definitely visit Ayr. He didn't have the confidence to guarantee that Ayr would not hurt Dorothy. Even if he saved Aier's life.

"Raphael, here we are!" Dorothy shouted happily, ran into the photo studio and asked the staff for photos. "Please, sir, please give us our photos."

The staff's face turned red and white, and he took out a few photos: "I'm sorry... I'm really sorry that we didn't wash these photos."

"It doesn't matter." Raphael answered first that no matter how much they develop the photo, Raphael and Fred will not develop it on the photo, so there is no need to waste this time and Dorothy's feelings on it, let alone make her confused. But this cute little guy has pouted and grabbed the photo unhappily, which is completely different from the liveliness when he came.

Raphael half squatted down and held one of her little hands: "Let's go home, Dorothy."

"No way! Raphael!" Dorothy stubbornly shook off his hand and ran to the staff. "Excuse me, sir, would you please wait for us for a while in the evening?" We want to take another picture."

"Don't bother you. Children just say casual words on a whim. Don't believe it." Raphael picked up Dorothy and nodded to the staff, "Goodbye, I hope you have a happy day."

As soon as she walked out of the door of the photo studio, Dorothy struggled to get down and shouted angrily at Raphael, "Raphael? Why don't you agree? These photos are obviously not taken well! Look at it!"

Dorothy held the photo and stamped her feet and shed tears.

Indeed, there is only Dorothy's lonely figure in the photo, but she is a photo with two people! How could this happen? Dorothy wiped her tears, threw them to the ground in disappointment, and curled her lips: "I don't want it!"

"Doris." Raphael helplessly picked up the photo on the ground, took a picture of the dust on it, and handed it to her, "Don't be wayward, okay?"

"But Raphael..." Dorothy didn't take the photo. She bulged her mouth and tears fell down her chin. She looked pitiful. "What I want is a family portrait. I'm not the only one. I'm not capricious. I just want a picture with you, me, and Fred. Already."

"Dorothy." Raphael held her in his arms and rubbed her with red and dark hair, like a kitten. He was very heartbroken. At this moment, how he wished he was just an ordinary person, giving up the elegant and noble identity of the devil, just to stop her tears. But what can we do now? He doesn't want to leave Dorothy, so he won't tell her the truth, and he won't let those dirty and secret things defile her pure and beautiful heart at all.

He cleared his throat and wiped away her tears: "Honey, I'm sorry, I'm ashamed that I can't meet your little request, but in fact, you have to be clear that the bar is very busy. Fred and I can't take time. Can you understand me?"

Dorothy slowly pushed his hand away with a very sad expression on her face. She turned around and walked forward step by step without even a simple answer.

Oh, my God! This is really terrible! He must have broken her heart! But what can he do? You can't tell her, "Hey, honey, I'm a demon. The camera can't take my figure!"

It's really hard to choose.

"What's wrong with you? Have you quarreled?"