Violet sat confidently beside Gwh, the two of them immersed in a racing game.
At first, Violet cruised along with ease, but as the rounds went on, Gwh''s skills noticeably sharpened. Her interceptions on the track grew more aggressive, and she started giving Violet a real run for her money.
They yed two rounds, and by the third, Violet was almost defeated.
Thankfully, it ended in a draw-otherwise, Violet would have wanted to vanish into thin air.
Imagine a five-year-old nearly wiping the floor with her in a racing game.
Who was she, after all? Violet Marchand, a well-known racecar driver back home, someone who rarely met her match during high-speed simtion training. Yet today, she''d almost been bested by a child.
Gwh lost all three rounds, but she didn''t seem upset. Instead, she lowered her head, only to look up with a bright grin and offer Violet apliment.
"Ms. Marchand, you''re amazing!"
Violet forced a smile, but it didn''t quite reach her eyes.
Gwh, she thought, really is as exasperating as her mother.
Violet couldn''t help but wonder-had Gwh been ying online at home? How
else could she have improved so much in just a few days?
Her first suspect was Victoria, but she quickly dismissed the idea.
Victoria was the type who spent her days fussing over her husband and child, hardly ever stepping outside. She wouldn''t even let Gwh touch a phone or any electronics-as if she were stuck in the 1970s-so there was no way she''d be teaching Gwh to y racing games.
When McNeil returned from the restroom and saw Violet and Gwh focused on the game, he couldn''t help but frown.
"Daddy, Violet is so good! I practiced at home for days and beat every single game, but I still can''t win against her," Gwh eximed, her excitement bubbling over. After all, nobody likes being the undefeated champion if it means always ying alone.
Seeing his daughter in such high spirits, McNeil''s brow rxed.
Video games might not be ideal, but there was no denying the obvious joy
Gwh felt when she was with him and Violet.
Children shouldn''t have to shoulder adult worries, nor should they be buried under
mountains of schoolwork at such a young age.
He didn''t want to see his daughter unhappy.
"Of course, and I''m sure Violet let you win half the time. She''s a famous racecar driver, you know."
He ruffled Gwh''s hair. Embarrassed by the praise, Violet''s cheeks flushed a rosy pink.
"Really? Ms. Marchand, do you actually race cars?"
Gwh had assumed Violet was just good at video games-she had no idea she was the real deal.
"That''s right," McNeil replied. "She''speted in all kinds of tournaments. The same kind of racing as in this game."
Violet was pleased to see the spark of admiration in Gwh''s eyes. She was so much better than Victoria-better for McNeil than anyone else, for that matter.
Soon, Curtis, Marcus, and Isaac arrived, with Marcus bringing his son Max along. Max''s eyes lit up when he saw Gwh with the tablet, itching to join in.
He looked up at Marcus, hoping for permission.
"In today''s world, it''s impossible to keep them away from technology forever," McNeil said casually. "Let them y a little-as long as it''s not too much."
Marcus nodded in agreement. A little wasn''t going to hurt.
Gwh, having lost to Violet, had no intention of challenging her again. She was
more than happy to y with Max instead.
But as soon as the new round started, Gwh absolutely dominated.
Max barely managed to start his car before Gwh bumped him straight into the curb, pinning his car so he couldn''t move. Then she blocked his path, and the game ended before he even had a chance.
"That doesn''t count! You caught me off guard!" Max protested, frustration in his voice. He''d yed this game plenty of times, but he''d never been beaten so
ve
thoroughly—especially not by a little blonde girl.
Gwh lifted her tablet with a triumphant grin. "Want to go again?"