?Chapter 743:


    Leading Harlee to the table, Sk first presented a bowl of soup and then proceeded to fill her te with an assortment of dishes.


    “Harlee, give it a taste,” she said with a hopeful smile.


    “Nyomi and I have refined this recipe several times. It’s certainly edible, I assure you.”


    Harlee cupped the soup in her hands, her ears filled with Sk’s lively banter, and felt a surge of warmth flood her chest.


    Harlee tasted the soup with a light sip. It was distinctly unremarkable in vor, yet there was an inexplicablefort in its warmth. Perhaps it was the infusion of a mother’s love that elevated the humble meal to something profoundly soothing.


    Harlee raised her hand slightly, reaching across the table to tenderly grasp Sk’s.


    “Mom, this soup is wonderful. I really love it,” she murmured, her voice soft with genuine appreciation.


    At Harlee’s words, Sk’s eyes brimmed with fresh tears. Ovee with emotion, she surged forward, enveloping Harlee in a fervent embrace.


    “My sweetheart,” she whispered repeatedly, each word a tender caress.


    From the sidelines, Nyomi’s eyes began to glisten. She had harbored worries about the distance between Harlee and Sk, but now, watching this heartfelt reunion, it seemed the emotional walls that had once divided them were dissolving. Nothing else mattered at that moment.


    Meanwhile, in the shadowed corner of the living room, Etta stood rigid, her gaze locked on the touching scene in the dining area.


    Her eyes were red and angry, her fists balled up and hidden in the folds of her sleeves, shaking with suppressed rage.


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    After returning to the Sanderson family, Etta had made several attempts to weave herself back into Sk’s world, hopeful of mending their frayed ties. Yet, each conversation with Sk dredged up mentions of Harlee, and now, Etta found herself a witness to a tender mother-daughter moment unfolding right before her eyes.


    How could Etta contain her fury?


    Etta’s fists, balled in anger, thudded against the wall, the sound muffled by her desire to remain undiscovered. She had no choice but to choke back her seething rage.


    “Harlee, you’ll pay dearly for this!” she snarled inwardly.


    Etta’s eyes, ignited with an eerie crimson glow, bore into Harlee with a stare as icy and lethal as a winter storm.


    At that moment, Callie emerged from the kitchen, her gaze inadvertently locking with Etta’s from across the room.


    Flustered yet cautious, Callie hastened toward Etta’s hiding spot.


    “Etta, what on earth are you doing lurking here? Hurry, back to your room. Mrs. and Miss Sanderson…”


    Smack! A sharp p left a vivid imprint of five fingers across Callie’s cheek. With a gaze sharp as daggers, Etta snapped, her voice dripping with disdain, “Shut your damn mouth! You have no right to address me, you old hag!”


    “How could you say this harshly to me, Etta?” Callie stared at her daughter, her face a mask of disbelief. She struggled to believe that the daughter she had nurtured through the best and worst of times now criticized her as an old hag.


    With a dismissive re, Etta said, “Don’t speak to me. You make me sick!”


    With that, Etta shoved Callie aside and made a wide detour back to her room. Once inside, Etta quickly locked the door, her actions hinting at something secretive. Worried that someone might be listening, she quickly crawled under the covers and took out her phone to update Hale.


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