Wine and Gun

——But this is also the problem, this father is really good at "giving", but he can't learn to express concern. This is one of the devastating blows to the family that the lack of a mother's role is: the father never learns how to talk to his children, so he doesn't know a lot of things...he doesn't know everything that's going on.

"...What are you thinking?" Albarino asked in Herstal's ear, the heat brushing softly against Herstal's earlobe, almost startling him.

Herstal turned his head to look at the other party: Albariño was trying to pull a small ornament from the Christmas tree, and the tree was swaying and slamming down. coniferous.

They were surrounded by a restless crowd, and the police officers who were sent out carefully searched the whole building, and it was almost certain that no one was hiding anywhere else, unless someone dared to fly into their arsenal, but that Probably already in the category of magic.

Now, the doors to the outside of the hall are locked and locked, and everyone is gathered; most of them are doing nothing, their brows are furrowed, and Hardy's men are digging up a pile of information on the personnel of the police station, apparently in the process of Screening for those who fit the profile.

Poor Hardy, standing in the corner of the room calling his daughter, seemed to be trying to explain why Dad didn't come home on time. But Hardy's daughter was only eight years old, and she obviously couldn't understand such a complicated plot. The child could be heard pitifully crying across the phone and so far away.

But even if the case could be solved now, Hardy obviously couldn't get out: the snow outside had grown to the point of bào snow, and the visibility was frighteningly low, all a bleak gray-white torn apart by strong winds. Obviously as long as the snow can't stop, they can only stay here honestly.

Affected by the Great Lakes effect, there is a lot of snow in Westland in winter, but being stuck in a police station in a bào snowstorm on Christmas Eve is a strange experience.

Albarino didn't seem anxious at all, and while he was pinching the Christmas tree, he was able to focus the other half on Herstal, as if he would not give up without answering the question.

Herstal didn't want to talk to him, but Albarino lowered his voice again: "I guess, thinking about family?"

Herstal glanced at him.

"Is this normal? After all, in theory, Christmas is a day for family reunion to have fun. People think sentimentally on such a day... some past events." I don't know if Albarino said this because of He is hungry. The man blinked, his eyes sharper: "How did you spend Christmas when you were a kid?"

"Do you really think you can get an answer from me?" Herstal asked suspiciously.

"In case, you should be full of hope." Albarino shrugged his shoulders easily, "After all, when I asked you about family last time, it seemed like I asked which elder of yours sexually assaulted you— —I have to say, it doesn’t seem right to start a conversation with that. I think if I ask the question carefully, I can still get the answer, right?”

Herstal let out a sneer: It might also be a Christmas miracle that this man knew his previous question was inappropriate.

But the other party still looked at him, the green of the iris was subtly graying under the shadow of the eyelashes. Herstal was silent for a while, then said: "We hardly ever get to Christmas, the financial problems are one thing, and the other is my father drinking until he didn't have time to put the tree at all. At Christmas time I I would go to church, and I was playing the piano in the choir."

"Where's your mother?" Albarino asked softly, though Herstal doubted that if the other party had actually investigated him, he might have known the answer, but just wanted to hear him say it himself.

"I don't know, she left my father when I was very young, and no one would want to stay married to an alcoholic." Herstal shook his head slightly.

Albarino thought for a while, then asked the next question: "So you do know how to play the piano, right? I didn't see the piano in your house."

"I haven't played the piano for years, and I don't think it's a good idea to keep playing the piano when WLPD is looking for a pervert murderer in a group of people who can play the piano," Herstal replied, and he looked sharply at Alba. Lino, before he could say the next sentence, said, "No, I know what you're asking—I'm not going to play again, under any circumstances."

"That's why you don't play the piano—that's why you're standing here but don't drink a drop of alcohol. It's not entirely to avoid breaking the law, right?" Albarino's voice became softer and lower. , "Most criminals are the product of the external environment, not entirely from the family, but most of them do come from the family. And even if it is completely from the perspective of ordinary people... I have never seen you drink, even if it is When you go out to eat that multi-course French meal, why? Because you don't want to be like your father?"

Herstal condescended and sneered at him: "That's why I don't want to talk about family with you."

"I didn't have a good Christmas either." Albarino shrugged his shoulders easily, as if he didn't hear his accusations, "You know, when your parents are doctors, you basically don't Time to see them at home, most of the time, the nanny took me to set up the Christmas tree."

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