CLICK—the old lady twisted open the heavy security door. "What are you talking about? Of course this is my house. I bought it with the money I saved myself."
At that moment, Tuba began to cry even louder, sweat breaking out on his forehead from the effort. His performance was extremely convincing.
"Hey, hey, what kind of mother are you? Is this even your child? He's crying so hard, why don't you try to soothe him?"
Without giving her a chance to argue, the old lady reached out and took Tuba. She began gently rocking him in a rhythmic motion while humming an unknown lullaby.
Watching the baby's cries gradually weaken in her arms, her tightly furrowed brows began to relax.
Once Tuba had stopped crying completely, she carried him and slowly shuffled into the house. "He must be hungry, and you said he wasn't. Young people these days are useless, can't even care for a child! Did you bring formula? I have hot water."
