Lawrence

Amid the orphanage staff's profuse thanks, Lawrence buried his unease deep in his heart, put on a polite smile, and walked out through the orphanage gates.

What would the young master say when he found out?

Gazing at the world dyed ink-black by the torrential rain, Lawrence worriedly wondered whether he would return all his donations. If he truly hated his father that much.

But this money had not been squeezed out of the Breen Family's meager remaining assets. It was his personal donation and had nothing to do with the Breen Family. If the young master truly came looking for him and demanded the money back, he could explain it that way.

"Mr. Lawrence, please get in—"

The accompanying driver struggled against the howling wind to hold a black umbrella over him, but the splashing water from the ground still soaked his trouser legs. Icy rainwater seeped through the damp fabric into his socks, making Lawrence deeply uncomfortable.

The driver opened the door of a dark-blue Rolls-Royce parked by the roadside and bowed slightly to invite Lawrence in. To his astonishment, however, Mr. Lawrence did not step into the car. Instead, he turned around and silently gazed for a long while at the orphanage they had just left behind in the rain.

"I want to take a walk alone, Sank—"

Under Sank's slightly startled gaze, Mr. Lawrence took the umbrella from his hand. Without further explanation, he opened it, turned around, and walked away down the road they had come from.

"Mr. Lawrence?" Sank, the driver, asked helplessly.

"You go back first, Sank—"

Lawrence's aged, low voice came through the curtain of rain.

"I want to be alone for a while. You aren't worried that I won't be able to find my way back, are you?"

Sank's protesting voice