Calista was a bit dared by his words, and it seemed she didit quite understand. She pursed her lips, insisting on the point, yelling. “You don’t like me!
“You” Kallun glared at her, only to see her looking back at him defiantly, her eyes red and sparkling. much like a stubborn line bene. #hy am I men berthering to anese tenke little draskand?
Kallum let out a sigh, deeiding to sidestep the topic. “What did you bring nie here for! The house has been burnt down, and there’s nothing left. What do we do nove?”
With her lower lip caught between her teeth, Calista muttered a few words and led him further up the hill To their surprise, they stumbled upon a small cave in the hillside, into which she promptly crawled.
Kallum found it anmising. As a child, Calista was raised by her grandparents, a pair of traditional old folks They brought her up just like an ancient maiden, with rules and expectations for every word and action. It was hard to imagine that she had such a secret hideout when she was little.
Upon entering, a variety of items were scattered on the ground. There were worn–out rag dolls, little dresses adorned with lace, and so on. Meanwhile, Calista was rummaging through the stuff on the floor
“Is this where you spent your childhood?” he asked.
Without looking back, Calista responded, “Yeah, my grandpa didn’t like it when I played with dolls, nor did he approve of me wearing those short dresses…”
Kallum suddenly felt a pang of sympathy for her. As a child, she had to learn so much, her days were filled with exhaustion, and she had little time to herself.
“Well Do you still like them?” Kallum pondered. If Callie still held affection for them, he could provide her with a room filled with dolls and princess dresses.
“No… I never liked them… Otherwise, they wouldn’t be here now.”
The place was filthy, so it couldn’t possibly reflect any form of affection. When she was a child, her father would bring over dresses and dolls, all of which her grandfather would throw away. She had to retrieve these items secretly.
“You don’t like them? Then why did you hide them here?” Kallum asked.
Suddenly, Calista found something, and her eyes lit up. “Because they’re the perfect cover!”
Before Kallum could utter a word, he caught a faint whiff of alcohol. Raising an eyebrow slightly, he walked over. At the narrow end, he had no choice but to crouch down. Both of them were like children, heads together, digging for treasure.
“What is this?”
“Alcohol!” Calista exclaimed, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction as she carefully unearthed a small bottle. She chuckled and said, “I remeinber Mrs. Fairchild once mentioned that on your birthday, you would always take the day off to enjoy some alcohol all by yourself. Apparently, you’ve been doing this since you were young!”
A significant tremor stirred within the heart of Kallum when he heard those words.
He stared at the bottle in Calista’s hand, licked his parched lips, and after a moment of struggle, he asked, “So…. Is this the birthday gift you prepared for me?”
Calista nodded, and her previously excited face fell once again. “But every time I went to see you on your birthday, you refused to see me…”
With a sense of loneliness, she reburied the bottle, whispering, “Back then, I buried one bottle per year. I thought I would then give them to you when I had the chance in the future…”
Kallum’s heart pounded fiercely. He reached out, for the first time, humbling himself to touch the soil. He dug slowly, revealing eight or nine bottles, each of a different size.
He wanted to say something, but it was as if his voice was stuck. Only Calista was quietly counting the bottles.
“One… Two… Nine! I’ve buried this many since I was nine years old!” With a satisfied expression, Calista asked somewhat mysteriously, “Do you know the kind of risk I took back then?”
As she leaned in to speak, she cast a sidelong glance outside the cave, as if anticipating a stern old man to appear any second.
“Alcohol was banned in our house! My grandpa, in his youth, had suffered greatly because of alcohol. That’s why he was so furious when my father, under the influence, made a mistake and ended up marrying Yelena.”
Crouched down, Calista moved a little closer toward Kallum, her face full of caution. Her eyes held a hint of mischief.
“That’s why I used these dolls and clothes as a cover. The last time my grandpa found out, he just scolded me a bit and didn’t check any further. I successfully managed to keep my alcohol!”
She seemed quite pleased with herself for having managed to deceive her stern grandfather, her voice growing louder as she spoke.
“Do you know what I used to brew my alcohol?” Calista asked, flaunting her knowledge before Kallum.
Kallum really couldn’t imagine what a nine–year–old girl could use to brew alcohol. He wanted to respond, but he found himself unable to utter a single word. Instead, he just stared at her with an intense gaze, as if he could see through her to the little girl who used to match wits and courage with her grandfather.
Upon noticing Kallum’s gaze fixed on her, Calista felt certain he was dying to know. So, she boasted, “I used fruits! There’s a forest behind the hill that’s full of fruits. I didn’t dare to steal rice because my grandma would notice. Hence, I used fruits instead!”
As she spoke, her eyes grew brighter. Even in the dimly lit cave, it seemed as if her pupils were filled with stars. “Do you know how I discovered the method for brewing alcohol? Back when I was in school, I had my deskmate look it up on their phone for me! I’m pretty sure I didn’t mess up the steps and the process. After all this time, it must taste amazing!”
Calista dug out the first bottle of alcohol she had buried, shaking it in anticipation. Hearing the sloshing of liquid inside, she squinted her eyes, eager to uncork the bottle and take a sip.