He was standing on his toes, clumsily struggling with the shower that was too high for him.
He didn’t even know how to turn on the hot water.
I sighed and went in to adjust the temperature for him.
As the warm water ran over his thin body, I finally saw it clearly. His arms and back were covered in bruises of all shades.
The bruises looked like they’d been pinched, or maybe hit by something.
New injuries lay on top of old ones.
My hand froze and my chest felt as if a huge stone was pressing down.
“Who did this?”
Arson flinched and hurriedly used his hands to cover the marks, keeping his head down and saying nothing.
“Speak!” My voice grew harsh despite myself.
He shivered at my tone, tears welling in his eyes, but stubbornly refused to let them fall.
“It’s… it’s because I wasn’t good… I made Grandma angry…”
Again… Linda!
That woman always looked elegant and proper in front of me. But behind the scenes, she could do such harm to a child?
Even if Arson wasn’t her biological grandson, he was still Harry’s son.
Even a tiger wouldn’t eat its own cub—how dare she!
I pushed down the anger in my heart, finished giving him a bath and found one of my old T-shirts for him to wear.