Reborn Through Fire (Kisa and Gilbert)
Chapter 390

Chapter 390 He Had a Point

Kisa frowned. 'It is just the three children in the house. and me with Ada still sleeping soundly in my arms, and the other two probably still sleeping, too. So who could be in the kitchen? Could Gilbert have come over again

without telling me?' With that in mind, she carefully removed Ada's arm from across her stomach and quietly got out of bed.

The bright morning sun shone into the house. When she stepped out of the room, the sound from the kitchen

became more and more audible. She walked over in puzzlement and found that it was Blake. He was busy in

the kitchen.

Blake saw her and greeted her. "Good morning, Ma'am."

Kisa was startled to see the fire on the stove and hurriedly turned it off. "What are you doing? Are you hungry? Come on out. Whatever you like to eat, I will make it for you."

Blake shook his head and then deftly turned the fire on again. Kisa saw him stepping on the chair and stirring the pasta in the pot with a spatula, and her eyes widened in

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"Blake, y-you know how to cook pasta?"

Blake smiled thoughtfully at her. "Ma'am, you go out and

rest for a while. Breakfast will be ready soon."

Kisa was still worried about the boy getting burned and hurriedly said, "Let me do it."

Blake shook his head again. "I can do it. I always make breakfast for Mom at home, and sometimes I cook for Dad."

If she had not seen how much Jensen and Mia loved the boy, she would have wondered if the boy was being abused at their place.

While Kisa thought, Blake said to her, "Don't worry, Ma'am. My cooking is delicious."

Seeing how persistent the boy was, Kisa relented. She reminded him, "Be careful. If you can't handle it, call me over, okay?"

Blake nodded vigorously.

It completely amazed Kisa. After all, Blake was only five years old, still a child. So she was still worried. After washing up, she leaned against the kitchen door and watched for a long time. Even though Blake was still small, he was very skilled at cooking. He not only cooked pasta but also made sandwiches. Watching the way he put in the greens and squeezed the salad sauce, even heating a jug of milk like a pro, Kisa was in awe, feeling that she was not as good as a five-year-old.

Blake made the breakfast and brought it to the table.

Kisa looked at him and asked, "Who taught you how to cook?"

0

"Dad," Blake said matter-of-factly. "He said, if I can

cook, I won't die of hunger."

Kisa was amused but could not deny that he had a point. She went into the kitchen to help him bring out the pasta. "Do you enjoy cooking? If you don't like it, I will talk to your godfather and godmother later."

"Err..." Blake seemed to ponder about it for a moment and then said, "Whether I like to cook or not depends on who I'm cooking for. If it's for someone I like, then I like to cook."

Kisa frowned, amazed by how mature the way he spoke. Then you-"

"I like Dad and Mom a lot, so I like to cook for them."

"Oh!" Kisa stroked his head and praised him. "You are such a filial child. Whoever can be your mom an

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