The man’s nudge silenced the woman, but the teary glearn in her eyes betrayed the turbulence lurking


    within their home. Margaret’s heart swelled with empathy for them.


    She turned her gaze toward Wynter, who was tapping her fingers on the table in a rhythmic pattern, lost


    in her own thoughts.


    After dinner, Margaret suggested they stay the night. However, the couple declined, mentioning they


    had already found a nearby inn. Before leaving, they left a parcel for Wynter.


    Margaret couldn’t shake her concern, even finding herself unable to focus on the television shows.


    “Your brother is seriously ill,” she mentioned.


    “Sounds like it,” Wynter replied. Lost in thought, she habitually twirled her teacup with her fingertips.


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