Max mimicked Vonda's position. He rested his head against the back of the chair and stared at the ceiling just like she was doing next to him.

“I feel like throwing up sometimes too, but well... what can you do. That's just how my life is.”

It was by no means a form of lamentation. It could be more accurately described as veiled joyful satire.

“It must be nice to have so many moms.”

“Hehehe.” Max turned slightly. “Don't you have many moms?”

Vonda shook her head once. “No, not at all. Besides, we're really different. You were a difficult child. Well, I think I was an easy child.”

“Hahaha!”...