Elena wagged a finger at him stubbornly.
âI donât care.
Grandpaâs a liar!â
I glanced at the clock on the wall, reached out to stroke Elenaâs hair, and comforted her.
âElena, playtime is over.
Itâs time for bed!â
Elena pouted reluctantly.
âWellâ¦I guess I have no choice but to let you go for now, Grandpa.
â
Smiling to myself, I called the servant in and said, âKindly take Elena to her room.
Make sure she goes straight to bed.
Otherwise, sheâll be sleepy tomorrow.
â
The servant nodded obediently.
âOkay, maâam.
â
However, when the servant was about to pick Elena up, she accidentally caught sight of my fatherâs horrific face and couldnât help but giggle.
My father sighed helplessly and announced, âIâm going to wash my face now.
â
Then he stood up and hurried to the bathroom.
âWait!â
I stopped him.
My father turned around and looked at me in confusion.
âWhatâs wrong?â
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Clearing my throat, I pointed at his face and asked, âDo you need help? I think itâll be hard for you to wash it off alone.
â
My father was stunned for a moment, but he soon recovered and nodded quickly.
I followed him into the bathroom.
I slipped the diary into my pocket to help him wash the paint off his face, intending to take it out again later.
After wiping his face with a towel, he noticed the diary in my pocket.
He asked hesitantly, âAre you in trouble again?â
I was surprised that my father was so observant.
After hesitating for a moment, I decided to tell him the truth.
âOne of my good friends got terribly burnt in the fire, and now, her face is scarred.
The doctors say that the scars will never heal.
But for some reason, I canât shake off the feeling that Momâs diary will give me the answer I want.
â
I saw my father visibly stiffen at what I just said.