Chapter 25

Davis POV

"No, my mother hates me!" The child insisted with a sob. At that point, I felt like whacking her clean.

How could she say her mother hated sir simply because she wasn't allowed to eat popcorn. For a moment, I felt maybe there was something deeper to the story the child was saying because popcorn was something trivial and if even a child was not allowed to have it, that was a little mean in my opinion. And just then, I heard a voice yelling right across the road.

"Amelia! Amelia!" The woman that was calling the child's name had a yemenian accent. I knew this because I had traveled to Yemen before. Not for a business but for a donation.

The woman was wearing a cultural attire but her voice and posture seemed English.

"Excuse me," the woman crossed over and I saw that the cried I was with stopped crying.

"Mama," she said in a low tone. The woman left her arms wide open but the child wouldn't go to give her a hug.

I stood on my feet, glad to be free of the situation of the buggi