Marcel had a faint mark on his face, and if you looked closely, you could see a similar one on his neck, like he had been whipped.
I felt uneasy. "Master Cox, Marcel is such a good person, how can he still get beaten?"
Master Cox sighed. "His dad, not measuring up to his older brother, forces Marcel to be better than Dylan in everything, driving the kid into rebellion. Instead of reflecting, all he does is beat him senseless."
I bit my lip, feeling more unsettled. "Marcel is really good."
Master Cox smiled in surprise. "Yes, I also think Marcel is a good kid—smart and kind-hearted."
"Yes, yes!" I nodded vigorously.
Marcel tapped my arm. "Eat your meal and stop causing a fuss."
His tone seemed to soften a bit.
I smiled, keeping my head down and obediently eating.
After the meal, the old man asked Marcel to drive me home. Reluctantly, Marcel picked up his helmet, looked at my doll dress, and, with a cold face, put the helmet down. He grabbed the car keys and drove me to my doorstep.
When we arrived at home, he looked at me seriously. "Don't bother me. I'm not one of you pampered people."
I didn't respond and waved at him. "See you tomorrow!"