Chapter 19

Timothy pretended not to hear Bob and ran faster, sneaking over to the sofa. He turned back to see that Bob had not come out to catch him.

He did not expect to get an actual punishment—it was almost like when a teacher only gave a warning for daydreaming in class. Timothy assumed that the matter of grabbing Bob's butt was dismissed with that simple threat for him to go to him.

He looked around, placed the freesias on the dining table, and returned to the kitchen.

Everything in the kitchen seemed normal. The ribs were marinating in herbs and spices, the potatoes were boiling in the pot, waiting to be peeled, and the fish was roasting in the oven. Bob was holding a knife, meticulously removing the veins from the shrimp.

Timothy had nothing to do, so he opened the fridge and tore open the box of ice cream, eating two in one go. Delicious.

Just as he was about to eat a third, he suddenly heard Bob, who had just finished handling the shrimp, washing his hands as he slowly and deliberat