The next day.
At the Bishop villa.
Early in the morning, Archie Lockwood arrived to take Rory home.
Shirley Lockwood looked at her father's stern, icy face. Displeased, she turned her head away, her own expression turning cold as she refused to look at him. If he wanted her to go home today, he would have to take her mother along too. Otherwise, she wouldn't leave even if it killed her.
"Rory, come here!" Losing his patience at last, Archie spoke slowly, his voice deep and frigid.
"No!" She wasn't stupid; there was no way she was going over there.
Archie forced himself not to look at the woman sitting in the wheelchair. Instead, he stared at Shirley and said coldly, "Come home with me, and I won't hold it against you for not coming back yesterday."
"Dad, I'm not going home with you," Shirley pouted. Speaking angrily, she walked over to Eleanor Bishop.
"If you don't come home with me, what do you plan to do?"
