Mason set down his teacup. "Speak of the devil. Let him in."

Yale was wearing the same outfit. The black coat managed to hide the blood stain with its color, but the red on his palms and his collar stood out.

This time, the respectful and humble expression gave way to a cold one. Krystal ran toward him.

"Yale, listen, I…"

He had watched the surveillance footage while he was in the hospital. He usually monitored Molly's condition through those surveillance cameras.

But now, it served as a tool that shed light on the truth.

His world crumbled as he watched what Krystal did to Molly.

His cold stare fixated on Krystal. The red-rimmed eyes carried a strong murderous intent.

He didn't say a word, but she let go of his hand.

Yale approached Mason to offer a greeting in a hoarse voice.

Mason spoke up, "I've heard what happened to your sister. I'm sorry about the baby.

"It was indeed Krystal's fault. You may do anything you want. I have no opinion about it."

He revealed his stance