"Where are we going?" Cammy asked, noticing that Greg was driving away from the direction of his penthouse.
"To my house," Greg replied tersely.
Cammy frowned, puzzled by his response. "Isn't your penthouse that way?" she asked, pointing behind them.
"Yes, it is," Greg said with a nod. "But my house is in this direction. The penthouse isn't the right place for Dylan. My house has a garden and a playground that he'll love." He glanced at the rear-view mirror and smiled at Dylan. "What do you think, Dylan? Wouldn't you like to play in a house with a grassy yard and a playground?"
Dylan's face lit up with excitement, and he leaned forward between the driver's and passenger's seats. "Yes! I'd love that, Uncle Greg. Will you play football with me?"
"Of course, buddy," Greg said with a chuckle. "And there's a pool at my house too. You've been learning to swim, right? We can practice together."
