Ropati cast a judgmental look to the older man who was, in one way or another, apparently responsible for this distraught young woman. The possessive man who gave her child? The father who left her to cry in the streets?

He hoped he had no children who yearned in his absence.

Ropati knelt to collect Alice's broken pieces into his crate.

"You don't need to need help to accept it, sir," he answered with a strained smile as wine stained his right white glove.