Marshall stared with wide eyes at Zoya, his little face flushed and looking very pitiful.

He sniffed, clenched his teeth, obediently holding back his tears.

Zoya let go of his hand, leaned close to Marshall's ear, and whispered softly, "Good children should not cry like this!"

"You are a child too." Marshall muttered softly.

Pouting, Zoya whispered, "But I am much more mature than Marshall."

Marshall bit his lip and couldn't speak anymore, feeling ...