George King ran a respectable home, he worked from home too, sorting out bank statements and the likes. He had two young boys Trevor and Oliver, he loved them dearly but Trevor was his older son and therefore he spent more time with him, he left the Nanny to look after Oliver mainly. It was 6:00am and he was waiting for the boys to be up, washed and dressed for breakfast.
Oliver rubbed his eyes and got out of bed, he was only six years old but he was a very smart boy. "Good morning Mr. Chan." he said softly and yawned some, his blonde hair sticking up in all directions.
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If you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.
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