Zane Jennings wore a smile, but the hand at his side was clenched so tightly that his nails dug into his palm until it went numb. He responded nonchalantly, "Did I murder someone? Or commit arson? Why do you hate me so much?"
His question was so calm that Rhea Thorne instinctively staggered back a step, a flicker of panic flashing through her for just a moment.
A few seconds later, when she spoke again, her voice was just as indifferent. "Your mistake was being born." She clearly didn't want to discuss it further. "Don't ever touch a race car again. Since you like cars so much, you can spend the rest of your life fixing them."
Her son had always been smart and restless. When he liked something, he would pursue it to the absolute extreme. He was exceptionally talented at racing, which was precisely why she wouldn't let him do it.
'So, she knew I liked racing after all.'
Zane Jennings clenched his jaw, and all the light in his eyes died. He was very obedient. "I won't touch them."
