When they were gone, Waylen walked in and closed the door behind him.

Then he took a seat across from Mark.

Mark sighed and asked him, “Do you happen to have any cigarettes on you?”

Waylen hesitated for a moment. Then without a word, he reached into his pocket and brought out a cigarette pack, pulled out a stick and gave it to Mark.

The last time Mark smoked was nearly six months ago.

His hands trembled as he lit the cigarette.

taking his first drag, he looked at Waylen and asked, “The test

say anything in

it was impossible to fathom

his silence was enough for Mark to conclude that the result was

a long drag on his cigarette, and

man in front of him, he said in a hoarse voice, “Waylen, since I was a child, I’ve always believed that every bullet has its billet. But

Cecilia, Edwin and his unborn child was too much for Mark to

allow himself to

die,” Waylen calmly

owed her. Whether or not they could be together, the children were his responsibility. Just because he gave her some money didn’t mean he had finished fulfilling all of his responsibilities

Waylen was no sentimentalist.

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